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Night one was a wrestling show you could show to any wrestling fan in the world and they’d find at least one thing they liked. Class from top to bottom. A big variety bag of wrestling goodness. Night two was the start of the road to the Hydro. New storylines came to the forefront. Journeys came full circle. James Storm came to glass folk and chew bubblegum (and hes all out of bubblegum dang it) and Grado came…………home.

Jeff Jarrett also came for a visit. Essentially given the keys for the night, because Dallas knew keeping a hold of them on his birthday would be a fine way to get his hoose….well…..fuckin wrecked. Double J was there to make sure the fine crockery was locked away in the end cupboard. He was there to put a coaster under any unruly drinks that might have had ideas about staining the good coffee table. He was there to make sure all party-goers conducted themselves in an orderly fashion. Most importantly….he was there to crack a guitar over someones napper. After Dallas introduced Double JJ, had a wee strut with him on the ICW logo, and let the crowd know he was the boss for a night he was presented with a guitar by Chris Toal. Shareen Nanjiani’s very own guitar no less. If Shareen knew what would end up becoming of that guitar she’d bemoan the day she accepted that Ebay bid from “LaToalFamilia88” for a sum total of £6.99 (Inc postage and packing) but the signed photo she chucked in for good measure being used for roach is something we can keep between you and I. She doesn’t need that heartbreak anaw.

BT Gunn vs Kez Evans

After tappin’ BT’s jaw immediately following his win over Walter, Kez Evans fancied going one better and actually beating his trainer in a match. The chief issue with that is BT Gunn doesn’t take kindly to having his jaw tapped, in fact he prefers to be the jaw tapper rather than the jaw tap-ee so naturally he came out all guns ragin’. Time to teach this rookie a lesson.

In Glasgow a straight up heider is one of the most effective ways to teach lessons and that is exactly how BT started this off. Fuck yer collar and elba tie up. Fuck a handshake. If someone sneak attacks you mere moments after an Austrian tank has just taken great pleasure in leathering you for 15 minutes, its fair enough to be a bit perturbed at it. BT hit a beauty of a dive followed by some stinging chops before jumping on Kez’s back to ride the pony Happy Gilmore style. We weren’t in Ayr and the Academy is nae race course, but BT was clearly planning to ride this pony all the way to his second win in as many nights.

I liked this mainly because it never felt like the outcome we ended up with was going to happen. BT was in control for most of it and it felt like routine stuff but as it went on Kez grew more menacing. BT was a whisker away from hitting the TMNT and ending it early doors. But the longer it went, the stronger Kez Evans got. A big clothesline, followed by a nice combo ending in a senton had him looking strong. Looking like the guy who didn’t hesitate to batter his mentor moments after one of the biggest wins of his career.

The rage in BT Gunn continued to be doled out in chop form. Multiple chest shaving chops. Pectoral pounding belters. A diving cutter off the top gave BT a two and once again he looked well in control of his young tormentor. He missed the mark with a dive giving Kez a wee opening to hit a big boot in the corner, but his attempt to go for a package piledriver was thwarted. Instead BT Gunn set him up for the Technodrome DDT. A killer move. Up there with the NAK’s famed Killer Boots for effectiveness. It would certainly have ended this contest if he hit it but Kez wriggled free and nailed BT with a low blow swiftly followed by the package piledriver for the three.

If you’d have told Kez Evans at the start of this year he’d wind up beating the Undisputed ICW Champion just one night after he’d beat arguably the biggest name in European wrestling he’d have told you to fuck off, and going on recent form, he’d probably slap ye aboot. BT might not hold all the gold anymore but he’s a bonafide ICW legend and as much as it came from nefarious means, this was a statement from Kez. No more waiting about for the chances to come to him, he’s a part of ICW now and he’s here to fuckin TAKE chances. Even if he needs to put a big dent in his trainer’s chances of reproducing via rapid forearms to the baws. They face each other at the next show on August 26th and there is a more than decent chance BT’s gonnae show up with a trident and straight up murder this upstart but for now? Enjoy the win of your career Kez Evans. You have certainly made a statement

Lionheart wants the shiny belt

Lionheart came out and kept it very short and sweet. He wants the title match at The Hydro. The winner of the nights main event is his. This statement went surprisingly unopposed and he swaggered to the back like the fuckin cock of the walk. The big kahuna. The boss. The future grand slam champion.

Kings Of Catch vs The Hunter Brothers

The Kings Of Catch will have been gutted not to be involved in a tag title match over the course of this weekend but I think the way it panned out suited everyone. We didn’t have a multi team match where it all gets a bit messy and it feels like some of the people involved don’t really get into it much. Instead we got a brilliant match for the titles on night one, and this cracker on night two, which wasn’t officially a number one contenders match but it pretty much was. A massive opportunity for The Hunter Brothers to make a big impression in ICW after some impressive showings so far. Even if they didn’t manage the win one thing you were absolutely guaranteed is a top quality tag match. That’s what they do.

It’s also a talent of the Kings Of Catch but another talent they possess is being conniving bastards. Lewis Girvan offered his hand to Jim Hunter as he had to Sam Barbour the night before, but he saw through the ruse, accepting the handshake only to immediately reverse the armbar Girvan put in after. It was the polar opposite to the title match the night before and that’s what makes the tag divison so intriguing right now. So many different styles. This was all slick tags and double team goodness early on before The Kings isolated Jim Hunter with a combination of slick teamwork, tomfoolery and sentons. Finally Lee saw some action as he caught a roastin hot tag, taking both kings out with a moonsault before hitting Aspen with a lariat to the back followed by a slick German suplex. The Hunter’s bringing their very best on what was their biggest match in ICW to date. If the tag division is going to have more focus put on it going forward, The Hunter Brothers were out to make sure they’d be a big part of that.

A rollup from The Hunters was broken up by a top rope double stomp, one of the more exciting ways a pin attempt has ever been broken up I imagine, before Aspen hit a powerbomb straight in to a knee to the coupon before he found himself on the sare end of a pouncing DDT. The gid wrestling was coming at you thick and fast in this one as The Kings busted out something special right after. Essentially the 3D but Girvan hitting the cutter springboard style for a near fall. They were looking for some kind of mad double team move on the apron that would have no doubt been heavy stunnin but instead they wound up heavy stunned when some evasive action from The Hunters saw Aspen accidentally hit a senton on his partner, immediately followed by Jim hitting a DDT as he came back in the ring. Moves that happen simultaneously when folk are entering the ring are the best moves.

They then somehow combined a brainbuster type manoeuvre with the other yin hitting a superkick at the same time. It was lovely stuff, as was pretty much all the stuff both teams done in this one but The Kings are out for the belts. Losing matches that aren’t even officially for the number one contendership is not the way to turn belts from belts you covet, in to belts you own. Double superkicks to both Hunters, before the Hunters became eh….The Hunted? The defeated? The deid? They took the Apter Burner is what I’m trying to say here and The Kings Of Catch took the win.

They took to the mic after to bemoan the fact that they weren’t in the mix for the title. They’ve been here every show. Putting in performances. Superkicking folk. Being a pair of cheeky bastards. Back in the good auld days some good old-fashioned hard work and wee bit of cheek got you everywhere. Now? With yer millenials all over the shop with their ipads and their berets? It gets ye naeplace. They were stopped in their tracks by RENFREW OUTTA NOWHERE cracking them with a chair before telling them him and a partner of his choosing would face the kings at the next show. Who’s his partner gonnae be I wonder? BT Gunn pulling double duty to reform the NAK? Kieran Kelly? The return of “The Teen Sensation” Christopher? Get tickets to the August 26th show and find out!

Andy Wild vs Jody Fleisch

Matches like this helped make this weekender so enjoyable. High quality wrestling matches without a huge amount of emotional investment involved. They don’t have bad blood. There was nae “feud” here. It was just two guys who somehow haven’t crossed paths in wrestling before having a right good match. It stops you winding up absolutely devoid of energy when the main event comes along when there are matches you can just enjoy as matches. Wild has been on song for a while and has fully embraced the new him. The bruiser who moves like a cruiser. The man with the van and a decent tan. In there with the OG of British Wrestling. A right good time for all involved.

They jockeyed for position early on before coming to a stalemate. Leaving the crowd in no doubt that they are both heavy good at the wrestling. Wild busted out a butterfly suplex before Fleisch took it to the outside, dropkicking Wild off the apron before hitting a beautiful crossbody as captured above by the incomparable David J Wilson. Look at that photo, look at they reactions, folk in awe at the flying Londonder about to land on the adopted Fifer. Lovely.

For some reason Jody Fleisch wound up picking up a leather jacket and hitting Wild with it, giving a whole new meaning to “leathering” yer opponent. Absolute thuggery so it was. Jody’s on a fast track to being in this year’s King Of Insanity match if he keeps on with that hardcore carry on. Terry Funk would be turning in his…eh…bed…if he seen the lengths this man was willing to go to for the win. He got Andy Wild up for a scoop slam right after. They nailed each other with mad forearms, multiple jabs before Fliesch went up top to end it with a moonsault. With that attempt evaded, Wild still had to contend with the Spanish fly for a two count before he hit the sitout powerbomb to seal an important win as he continues to build momentum.

Jody had a cracker with Aaron Echo on night two last year and this was another good yin. Would love to see him in a right good feud for the Zero-G. He is a legend and a big name to have on your show but fuck the legend patter. That would suggest he’s past his best when the evidence in the ring suggest that’s a lot of shite. He’s never been better and is yet to have anything anywhere near a bad match since he became an ICW regular. As for Andy Wild, sky’s the fuckin limit big man. He has a following and seems more focused than ever. Both men will no doubt be after that Zero-G belt. Maybe even the big yin.

Jeff Jarrett makes a match

Jarrett appeared for the second time of the night and he was in the mood to make him a wee match. After teaching us all how to spell his name, the law around these parts appeared to set a few things straight. The bold yin. Just Justice Jackie Polo. Double J exchanging barbs with Double J, JP. There’s no been that many J’s in the same room since Snoop Dogg’s last birthday party. Just Justice was out to demand a match at the “02 Sportatorium” (this wasnt no armoury thats for true) and that match was to be a rematch with the man who defeated him the night before. His perennial enemy Lionheart. After firing out some patter about the snugness of Jackie’s beautiful white jeans, Double J announced that he had different plans for Jackie.

His opponent was actually a dealbreaker in Double J even appearing at the show at all. A man who Jarrett counts as one of his closest friends in wrestling. A man whose name has become synonymous with ICW over the years, but a man whose relationship with the company ended on strange terms. He went out as a baddie who got his comeuppance. A role that entertained me personally but truthfully just never fitted him. That’s not who Grado is. The reaction he got here? The joy on his face and the joy that came pouring out of pretty much everyone in attendance when his music hit? That’s what he does. Gone was all the uncertainty. Gone was any notion that Grado isn’t a talent to be cherished. It was almost like the reset button had been hit and no one was interested in fucking TNA anymore. No one was interested in booing. It was almost like folk actually woke up and realised this is the guy who shifts tickets to normal folk. The guy who bridges the gap. This is the guy the taxi driver mentions when you tell them you’re going to wrestling show in Glasgow. This is the guy I heard my maw pishin herself laughing at when she watched the first part of the first episode of WoS and he spoke about how he walks his dug instead of going to the gym. Yer maw, yer granny, yer best pal. At his brilliant best there’s no conceivable way to dislike him when he’s doing his thing. This is pure joy in a shiny singlet and I hope he never goes away again because he BELONGS in ICW. They were mutually integral in each other’s growth and ye know what? They need each other. Simple as that. Welcome home.

Grado vs Just Justice Jackie Polo

This being the match just made sense for so many reasons. It was the best way to use Jarrett as he is genuinely pals with Grado, and a great way to get Grado in the ring with an opponent he has always had a lot of chemistry with. It also gave Polo the chance to go line for line in a promo war with one of his heroes. Even having the highest of honours bestowed upon him to finish the match off but we’ll get to that in due course eh. Patience ffs. If you waited a full year for a Grado match in ICW ye can wait another paragraph to see how it finished up. Calm it.

Grado emerged to a thunderous reaction. Proper earth shattering, smile inducing, heavy gid shit. Nae word of a lie when I first started going to ICW shows and I was bad mentally, I’d look forward to Grado coming out because it was impossible not to get into it. It was impossible not to get lost in it. It was relief from the shite. He emerged with the guitar Mark Dallas gave Double J earlier in the night before getting in the ring and saluting all 4 sides of the crowd (one side was just Jeff himself, but he done his bit) and finally facing down his opponent. They both done that wee head tilt Grado done at the Barras before his match with Renfrew when he had a baying NAK mob behind him, the same head tilt Polo imitated before his match with Lionheart at the barras. Rivals in the ring they will always be. In his eyes, Polo MADE Grado after all. But there’s definitely a mutual respect there. A wee bit of scope to have a laugh before the serious business kicked off. A handshake seemed to confirm that respect only for Polo to betray Grado with a boot to the mid section. Crafty.

A procession of scoops followed by Polo taking Grado to the ground and locking him in a variety of effective, no frills holds had Just Justice looking strong. In nae mood to lose two nights in a row that’s for sure. A marquee attraction like ol Just Justice can’t be having any of that. Grado drew in the energy of all the Gradomaniacs and cameback swinging lariats, jabs, chops, a roll n slice attempt was reversed before Grado foiled Jackie’s attempt to spark him out with the mallet. A wee bit of shake, rattle and rolling happened, followed by the bionic elbow to the dial, and the second attempt at the roll and slice did indeed land. Vintage Grado. He should have looked right down the camera lens, planted a kiss on it and gied it “I’M BACK BAYBAAAAAY” but instead he kept wrestling. A smart move when you’re in a wrestling match right enough. Fair play.

A wee boot brought a two count before Double J emerged. Clearly not too pleased at being told by Just Justice that he would in fact be reporting to him and not vice versa. He picked up that guitar and knocked Jackie stupid with one of the best guitar shots of his illustrious guitar swinging career. This wasn’t just a shot to the dome with a guitar, this was one man joining another man with a guitar in holy matrimony. That guitar is a part of him forever now. Grado decided that was enough to get it done and covered him straight after for the win. No further damage needed. Polo disappeared backstage looking dishevelled, but no doubt had a big smile on his face when he was away from the crowd. It was likely a similar moment to Jake The Snake appearing on raw and putting his snake on Dean Ambrose. He couldn’t help but smile. A personal hero doing their thing. Even if that thing is cracking a big plank of musical wood over your napper.

Grado insisted Double J wasn’t going anywhere until they had a wee sing song. You cannot book Jeff Jarrett on a show and not get him to sing a wee song ffs. We all wait for that moment when we get to be alone with our significant other. Or maybe just some insignifcant other ye met that night and decided to fire intae with the hope that he/she might have loose morals. The message is the same and they sung it beautifully together. As if The Road Dogg Jesse James wrote with this duet in mind. Wait…whit d’ye mean he didn’t ACTUALLY write it? Why did they base a whole feud on it then? Is it all a lie?

Welcome fuckin back Grado ma man. Its been far too long.

Aaron Echo vs Jeff Cobb

No doubt they were building towards Echo vs Williams for this show but that will come in due time. This however posed a different sort of challenge for Echo. A world-class athlete and one of the most notable wrestlers on the ‘indies’ coming over for a scrap. A truly unique grappler. Built like Rhyno and wrestles like Kurt Angle. Watched a lot of his matches about a year ago to see what all the fuss was about and the fuss was justified. Based on this match the fuss was definitely justified. It was a huge opportunity for Aaron Echo to prove he could get to that level. With key players pursuing opportunities elsewhere, ICW needs a band of mainstays to do the business every single show. Aaron Echo has been primed and ready to be one of the guys for a while. This was the time to step up and prove it.

Cobb is a big suplexing machine and a decent way to avoid getting the bejesus suplexed out of you is staying on the move. Back elbows from all angles. Be as difficult a target as possible. With Cobb on the ramp Echo misjudged a move off the top and found himself caught. Undoubtedly shitting himself for the suplex potential on the ramp, but instead Cobb launched Echo clean over the top rope with a Fallaway Slam. As Billy pointed out on commentary, he didn’t even squat for extra leverage. Effortlessly chucked a big unit of a guy clean over his heid. If anyone wasn’t aware of exactly how good Jeff Cobb is, they were quickly brought up to speed. A freak of nature.

A diving back elbow after a backbreaker got Echo back in about it and he never backed down for a second. As much as Cobb was here to make an impression, this is not his gaff. Aaron Echo’s been knocking on the door for a long time now, and this was his time to announce himself as a big time player. A stalling superplex was another display of Cobb’s raw power before he once again caught Echo coming off the top, this time turning it into a powerslam. He then hit a standing moonsault which is just nuts for a guy his size. Defying gravity, the laws of physics, and the laws of making sense all at once. He hit a mad powerslam variation he uses as his finisher called The Tour Of The Islands (big mans Hawaiian btw) but Echo was not settling for anything other than glory on this night. There would be nae respectful standing ovation in defeat like his match with Jody Fleisch. This yin wouldn’t be another hard luck story.

Rolling forearm from the big man had Jeff seeing stars. Clean connection with the jaw. Emphatic. He immediately hooked him in for a Pumphandle Slam, turning it in to sitout for the one, two, three. A huge moment for Aaron Echo. A win over one of the most recognisable names in independent wrestling and a guy whos just a joy to watch. An excellent match. They showed each other much respect afterwards and that’s nice. Its nice to make pals int it? Big Jeff won’t think its so nice when Echo shows up at his door in Hawaii out his banger looking for a gaff party right enough but such is life eh.

Mikey Whiplash talks

Out to explain his actions from the previous night, Whiplash bemoans his lack of focus in recent months. He apologises to Aivil for not having his eye on her concerns or Legion as a whole. He vows to be better. He speaks of his past successes. One of which was ending Red Lightnings reign as ICW Champion 5 years ago. Red Lightning didn’t take too kindly to that and out he came, but with something different in mind to what you might think. He teased the idea of facing Whiplash in the ring again, telling him he could probably beat THIS Whiplash. Confused. Broken physically and mentally from pandering to the “ugly bastards” that make up the ICW crowd. He told them they were too ugly to deserve such a match and instead Mikey should join the Rudo crew. He could be the face of the brand. A new start. He wasn’t having it. Point blank refused and chucked up the Legion sign which is apparently like a red rag to the bulls known as Iestyn Rees and Bram. They all laid into Whiplash with boots before Ravie Davie came out for some unexpected hauners. As much as he hates Bram and Iestyn, cmon tae fuck mate. A raging James Storm awaits. This one wasn’t your battle.

As is customary on seemingly every show where they are within 100 feet of each other, Bram proceeded to boot Davie square in the baws. Saluting him with the double middle finger before embracing James Storm as he approached the ring with homicide on his mind.

James Storm vs Ravie Davie – Texas Death Match

Ravie Davie. The gallus one. Not an ounce of fear in him. Even if you don’t like him, the set of baws he has on him must be respected. Even if they had just been very much disrespected by Storm himself. He takes an absolute battering sometimes. He is thrust into situations that will almost certainly lead to him getting his shit ruined and he still embraces those situations anyway. He embraces them for the moments that he might create if he does overcome the odds. Moments like that blockbuster off The Garage balcony en route to beating Bram. Moments like the coast to coast he hit after Bram had dismantled his eye socket. Moments like stepping out in front of the Barrowlands crowd with James Storm in tow. Ready to fight a couple of big violent bronze statues. For every good moment there’s pain. For every Blockbuster off the balcony, there’s geting pushed off a ladder by your fiance when you’re about to win the biggest match of your life. For every coast to coast, theres Bram relentlessly punching your eye until its barely even visible anymore. So swollen it looks like you’re smuggling golfballs under yer eyelid. For every moment like stepping out in front of the Barrowlands crowd with a tag team legend as your partner, theres a moment like that very same man smashing a beer bottle over your dome and beating the living shite out of you. For no real reason. Just because he can. Even the previous night, Davie tried to et the jump on James Storm and he was brutally floored. Mocked almost. This was a chance to avenge all that shite. All the doings. Getting chucked down a staircase. Fiancee bumped. Cousin Zander cathing a few pastings in the process. This was it. A death match. Objective. Kill a Texan.

The only issue with that is that the Texan in question has been around a long time and still seems to be breathing. That tells you something in itself. He is essentially the completely opposite to Ravie Davie and something about him has made a veteran of 20+ years fuckin snap. Straight up. A vicious streak has been unleashed and he seemed hell bent on legit killing Davie. Not gaining an emphatic victory, killing the poor cunt fully dead. When a bull rope comes out before anyone’s chucked a jab in anger you know you’re in for a different kind of match. They made their way into the crowd where Davie hit a big senton off one of the many jumpable platforms dotted around the Academy. Fuck knows why this wasn’t a venue ICW ran before because in that regard its rammed with possibilities. They then scudded each other with folk’s beers. James Storm has truly proved his villainy over the course of these two nights because he must have wasted about 100 quid worth of beer. Two whole pints worth in the 02. A disgrace.

He choked Davie with the bull rope again but Davie continued to stay in it. Nailing storm with a Pele kick. before hitting a dive in the corner assisted by a chair that had been previously set up to cause him some critical damage. Then the real villains appeared. I’m no talking about Rudo’s boys. I’m no talking about the NwO. I’m no talking about The Briscoe Brothers. I’m talking about a big bag of thumbtacks. Make no mistake about it, James Storm wanted to hurt Ravie Davie. He wanted him to suffer. He took him up top to hit the Eye Of The Storm through on the tacks but Davie somehow reversed it into a Hurricanrana. His momentum was short lived however, missing a moonsault on to the tacks before Storm finally hit his finisher through a table he’d set up earlier. A valiant fight from Davie but that was the killer blow. Surely. Stay doon for three so this sadistic bastard doesn’t literally kill you.

He would not yield though. Instead he got himself involved in a gless cheque fight. Irn Bru bottle vs Beer bottle. Storm always seems to get there first in these situations and that’s a learning experience for Davie. A full irn bru bottle vs an empty beer bottle? Storm had connected with Davie’s dome before he was anywhere near connecting with the bru bottle. Too heavy. Not compact enough. Difficult to swing. Next time drop all pretence and just bring a stanley knife. It was a fatal error as Storm tied Davie’s hands with cable ties before taking a handful of tacks and filling Davies mouth up with them. Absolutely boak inducing stuff. Truly brutal. A gub bursting superkick later and it was all over. Perhaps mercifully for Davie. If only that was the end of his suffering for the night but little did he and even James Storm know, it was only just beginning.

Storm continued his attack after the match of course. That wasn’t a joke, he really is trying to murder Ravie Davie. Putting 20-30 thumbtacks in someones mouth and kicking them is at the very least an attempt to make eating impossible. How the fuck can someone eat if their mouth is mostly thumbtacks. Zander was the first out to put a stop to the attack, then to everyones surprise Davies real life pal Leyton Buzzard arrived. That made it feel all the more real. The image of his real life best pal so distraught by the kicking he was taking. He had no idea that was just the tip of the iceberg. It would get so, so much worse.

Joe Hendry arrived swinging a chair wildly. Clearing Storm out. He got on the mic and it sounded like a full blown character change was in effect. Buoyed by the respect and cheers he got at the end of the war with Renfrew, Joe was a changed man. A company man. Or….not. He attacked Leyton for insubordination. Not following simple instructions. Acting as a lone wolf. His words were so cutting. So vicious. Egging his apprentice on. DEMANDING he hit his best pal with a chair. Thirsting for it. Joe Hendry wanted Leyton Buzzard, Ravie Davie, Zander and the whole audience to know HE is in control. He controls his assistant. He controls what happens to people outwith ICW. He can make or break you and by the sound of his words he’s out to do a lot more breaking than making. He wanted Leyton to learn a lesson the hardest way possible and he reluctantly did hit a defenceless Davie with the chair. Freed from the cable-ties by Joe initially but frozen to the spot with exhaustion. He urged Leyton to do it for the sake of his career and Davies. Joe threatened to blackball them both. It was the only way. He carried out a frenzied beat down, not even realising Joe had left the ring before he stopped and looked at his pals in horror. What have I done? Happy with his nights work Joe disappeared, and Leyton left through the crowd. Broken.

Viper vs Martina vs Kasey – ICW Womens Title Match

Viper will have been a perturbed that this yin was scheduled right before her man went for the men’s title in the main event, with Kay Lee Ray not being involved leaving her free and clear to meddle as she pleases. She will have been even more perturbed when The Wee Man, now managing Kasey, got on the mic to praise her abilities as a standard-bearer for the women’s division while also telling the crowd that it was a “fuckin cobra” in her entrance video. A revelation that had everyone in the ring having to stifle a mad bout of the giggles. Not to say they are done with ICW but with Rampage and Ashton Smith both being handed big opportunities elsewhere, putting The Wee Man with Kasey is a bit of a masterstroke. Leaving her to focus on impressing in the ring while the best hype man in Scottish Wrestling does his thing on the mic. Triple threat matches always have the capacity to be a bit shite, but so does every match I suppose. Sometimes matches are just shite. This was not.

Viper started out with mad scoops and a Viper Driver, sensing that she had to come out swingin before the Irish alliance joined forces to try to take her down. Martina hit a beauty of a suicide dive as they took the action outside before Viper again put paid to any kind of double team carry on by reversing a double suplex attempt in to her own form of double suplex. Martina was then whipped towards a waiting Viper in the corner for her version of the Bronco Buster which is paints quite a vivid picture when it’s referred to as “The Yeast Infection”, only for Viper to continue to keep the troublesome Irish pair at bay with a double crossbody. Back on the outside Viper hit a cannonball on to both her opponents and a team of security guards who made the mistake of hosting their weekly game of switch at ringside during a match. I know yees love a good game of cairds boays but this was hardly the time for it. Another double move, this time a double back suplex kept Viper in the ascendancy. Never leaving her two opponents to battle it out one on one. If anyone was taking her belt they’d at the very least need to go through her first.

A Viper Driver on Martina was quickly followed by Kasey hitting that running knee called The Killing Joke a few times but when that failed to put Viper away she went to her go to. Polo goes for the mallet. Jester goes for the corkscrew. Sha Samuels goes for a pint and a bag of pork scratchings. Kasey goes for the bat. Its part of who she is now, but she didn’t count on a mad Italian burd lurking under the the ring to skelp her sideyways. Aiivil emerged to fight Kasey all the way to the back, starting what will no doubt be an excellent feud between them but also taking Kasey out of the equation and ending her quest to become a three time champ, leaving Viper to hit Martina with the Viper Driver to retain that shiny belt.

Very entertaining match right enough. I’m a bit buzzin to see how Kasey and Aivil develops and for Viper, it was a hard fought defence at a time where she really didn’t want it. Should’ve slipped Double J a score and fired him that “put me on first eh big man” wink so she could be as present as possible for husband’s big match but no to worry eh. I think he ended up doing awrite.

Stevie Boy vs DCT – ICW World Title Match

If you sat these two down three years ago and told them they’d be in the main event for the ICW World Title in three years time they have probably went “How the fuck dae you know? have they finally perfected time travel? Did Trump win the election? How many times have The Gzrs won the tag titles? We have so many questions! Where’s yer DeLorean parked?” but here they were. Its been a remarkable ascent for them both but a true testimony to where a bit of hard graft can get you. So many who started training around the time when Stevie did don’t even wrestle anymore. Many more have settled for mediocrity. Wrestling as a hobby. Similarly quirky characters of DCT’s ilk never shake that quirkyness off. They become the quirk. It defines them and their careers going forward. DCT knew there was more for him. DCT stepped in front of the buzzsaw known as Bram and took an almighty doing to prove he was more than a moustache. More than a sex hero with a densely stamped passport. Neither of them were really supposed to be here and that’s what made this truly special. A main event born and raised in ICW. These guys grew up in this company. They had their first taste of main event spots in this company when they tore the house down at Spacebaws. Now this was THEIR time. They got to close the weekender and they fucking delivered. Streamers rained down as they entered the ring for a match that would change the course of their careers. Loser leaves. Winner wins the big yin.

Kay Lee Ray appeared on the ramp looking menacing. Immediately drawing DCT’s eye off the champ, but it was another top quallity ruse as she launched a chair at Coach Trip and with DCT distracted, Stevie got fired right in. He clearly had a plan of action and the objective of that plan was to remain a citizen of the UK by the time its finished, as well as the ICW World Champion. He accidentally dropkicked his burd, an act of accidental betrayal that was met with the “Stevie’s on the couch!” chant that usually happens when he accidentally clashes with her. Finally down to a one on one fight they exchanged brutal forearms. On his way to earning this title match DCT has proved he has a capacity to absorb pain like few others. Surviving a brutal Number One contenders match with Renfrew before stepping in to face Stevie in the main event that very same night as BT Gunn couldn’t compete. That night made him in ICW and he hasn’t looked back since. Gone were the days of him not being taken seriously. He proved beyond any reasonable doubt that he could fuckin fight and in ICW that’s half the battle when it comes to winning the big belt and keeping a hold of it. He dished out all the lariats, back elbows and splashes to get back in the ascendancy, even looking for the win early on with a beautifu facial for a two count, only for Kay Lee Ray to fire Coach Trip in harms way at ring side. Stopping DCT in his tracks long enough for Stevie to nail a dive on them both. There might be new music on the go, but Stevie Boy was out to show he still dominates the fuckin world (RIP Stevie’s auld music. Gone but never forgotten)

Kay Lee Ray got involved once more but was taken out by a resurgent DCT. Only way he’s leaving the UK after this yin is if the wife has him booked on a celbratory cruise roon the Maldives or suhin. He knew if he fucked this chance up it might not come round again too quickly so he was as focussed as he’s ever been. He even hit Stevie’s very own move, breaking out the Destoryer for a two count that was as much mental warfare as it was physical. Stevie’s own version also didn’t get the job done after a chair being set up in the ring had led to DCT using it as a launchpad for a beautiful lungblower (had nae idea it was called this but Billy uses it on commentary and it sounds a lot fuckin better than “double knees to the ribs n that, looks sare”)
Viper had finally seen enough of Kay Lee’s meddling and hobbled out to provide matrimonial hauners, only for the Kings Of Catch to once again prove pivotal in proccedings. Intervening eventually but only after Stevie had crashed through a table that he previously set up on the outside. Kay Lee Ray set out handing out a whole load of superkicks, only for Coach Trip, who had previously taken one right on the jaw to bust one out of his own, rolling back the years to set the example his charge needed to go on and win the big yin. Like when Ale Ferguson chucked that teacup at Beckham and he single handedly won the World Cup for Real Madrid. Or suhin like that. Stevie capitalised on the Kings involvement to go for a second, no doubt fatal Destroyer but DCT rolled through it and instead delivered a second facial, this time it was a messy one, gettin all up in Stevie’s face (sorry) in his eyes n everything but he managed to kick out at 2. The figure 4 that made Davey tap at Shug’s the previous year was locked in as DCT looked to turn the screw, but Stevie managed to reverse it aided by Kay Lee and we were back to square one.

It was all a bit chaotic at the end up, which had tended to put things in Stevies favour in the past. He had the numbers advantage and when the Kings hit Viper with the Apter Burner after she’d nailed Kay Lee with the Viper Driver they well and truly had the numbers in their favour. Put yer passport away Stevie ma man. You’re no going anywhere. Coach Trip heroically climbed in there in an attempt to at least distract the Kings and he foiled their Apter Burner attempt on him, leaving Viper to hit a cannonball off the apron to clean pretty much everyone apart from the two guys fighting for that coveted slab of sexy gold. The way it always should have been. One on one. Mano e mano. Destroyer vs Facial. Stevie vs Davey (Campbell Thomson). If you did sit them down three years prior to this to tell them they’d be the main event in three years time, they would probably have believed it because they’ve always backed themselves. Even when it wasn’t easy to do so. Other folk might not have believed it but they were the ones putting in the work and on this evidence its a spot they were very much suited to. Born for it. For the last few minutes this war was all about them.

They scudded each other daft with all sorts of strikes, DCT gaining the upper hand befor Stevie hit a stonker of a superkick. Stevie’s attempt to get a chair involved again was thwarted by a sickening lowblow from DCT. Another aspect he’s proven more than capable of has been utilising the dirty tactics when he’s needed to. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire. There’s nae prizes for being clean cut and by the book in ICW and judging by his International Sex Hero days (and the fact that his finish is called the fuckin facial) yer man’s no stranger to getting down and dirty. His attempt at the electric chair drop was actually not that at all, instead he dropped Stevie and hit a German before clearing Kay Lee off the apron as she attempted to get in about it again., DCT had fuckin done it. A facial finish for the win. Just as god intended. One, two, three. Wait….haud on. That means……Stevie’s fuckin….aw naw. Stevie’s gone.

One man’s elation was another man’s heartbreak. The thing that will hurt Stevie even more is that he essentially done this to himself. It was him who originally set the stipulation that if DCT lost he was gone and his actions after that made Dallas change it to a loser leaves match. Christ knows if Stevie is actually going somewhere, he certainly deserves it if this means he’s off to chase an opportunity somewhere, but as a big fan of his work it was a gutter to see him vanish up that ramp without that title he worked so hard to finally get. It felt like there was more to come from his run. Take absolutely nothing away from the victor though. A man whose initiation in ICW came with him being eliminated from his first two Square Go’s by a single Renfrew chop, and his first brush with an ICW Champion led to him being mercilessly whipped with a belt at the hands of Jack Jester. He’s no ones whipping boy now. He is the fuckin guy and he’s determined to be the guy who steps out with that glorious new belt at the Hydro. No matter if its Lionheart or some other new and exciting challenge, you’ll need to go through a guy who’s went through hell to get that belt and prove his worth. DCT. ICW World Heavyweight Champion.Living the dream

Noam ‘fuckin Dar. A lot of really good shit happened on night one of the Shug’s weekender. An eye watering fatal four-way match with a WWE title on the line stole the show in terms of being the best wrestling match and all 4 men involved should be incredibly proud of what they produced when the stakes have maybe never been higher, but nae single moment matched the one where Noam Dar stepped through that curtain one more time in front of 1,000+ people who love him like a brother/son/mythical god in a shiny trackie tap. It was a wee moment of triumph for him and everyone watching. The fact that his talent has been recognised with WWE signing him AND we still get to see him perform in ICW. Even if its just for one night, thats still a special, surreal situation we all find ourselves in. Wrestling right now is beautiful and you’d need about 50 pairs of eyes and at least one and a half functional brains to watch all the good shit. All I needed to see Noam on this particular night was a pair of steamin eyes and at least 1/8th of a brain and honestly it was like seeing the love of my life for the first time all over again. The first guy who stepped through the curtain at the first ICW show I went to had suddenly came back into my life. If he didnae leave me so he could hing oot the back ae ALLLLLLLLLLEEEEESHA FOXXXXX I might have considered going for a reconciliation but I realise now that’s where he belongs. Don’t be sad its over, just be happy it happened, and if the fair city riots come back to town again, scream so hard ye gie yersell a hernia.

Unfortunately while Noam would be tagging with his auld pink party pal Sha Samuels in the main event, he wouldn’t get to share the ring with fellow pink partner turned big bad baddie Grado. Due to other commitments Grado and Red Lightning opened the show by informing the crowd that Grado wouldn’t be competing that night and that Grado vs Sha Samuels the following night would be “loser leaves town”. Grado took to the mic to call us aw jabronis and tell us he didn’t need us. But what if we need you eh? Ye ever think about that? What if we need you and you fuck off to America to ride Alicia Fox anyway? Whit am I supposed to tell the weans?

Bram was announced as his replacement and the latest client of Rudo, little did we know just 24 hours later he’d set fire to the world before sitting back with a cigar watching it burn.

Mikey Whiplash vs Stevie Boy (Dog Collar Match)

ICW’s only other dog collar match was a fuckin stoater between two guys who would later be involved in an equally excellent contest later in the night. This one was also beautifully brutal viewing and its excellence might get a bit lost considering all the other heavy duty shit that occurred on the night but any match that involved a guy literally hanging his adversary should never be lost in anything.

They started with Whiplash pulling Stevie into the middle some some thunderous forearms and jabs before Stevie used the dog collar to pull Whiplash off the ropes into an innovative cutter. Stevie had control and decided that with Whiplash down, it was time to get that collar aff. I seen this move being queried and folk askin if it should be a DQ, its a fuckin dog collar match troops. People were scudding each other with chains. There are nae DQs. Its very much a dae whit ye want type of scenario and Stevie wanted that collar off. He then had the ingenious idea to attach his half of the collar to the ringpost before leathering Whiplash with the chain for a while. Whiplash ended a sustained and brutal period of getting a doing with a Death Valley Driver but his own wee bit of momentum ended when he went for a running kick but the chain was just a wee bit short and he went fleein into the air like Stevie had chucked The Geezers auld slip n slide in the ring.

Whiplash decided the best course of action after that mishap would be keeping the chain a close to him as possible, strapping it to his body like a demonic life jaiket before leaping off toe top rope and landing a splash. Whiplash then put the collar back ON Stevie, before pullin the rulebook oot his pocket and showing Stevie the word “Dog Collar Match – Rules” at the top of an otherwise empty page. As blood trickled down Whiplash’s face they scudded each other daft once more, Stevie hitting two superkicks in a row and looking the sharper man, only for Whiplash to bust out THREE powerbombs and the death valley driver he called “The Zombiemaker” for the win.

Whiplash grabbed a mic after sealing the win to tell Stevie it wasn’t over. His disciples placed a coffin on the stage and there was a present for Stevie in there. I dunno if there was some kinda flesh-eating monster in there but whatever Whiplash had in store was absorbed by a certain Jimmy Havoc. Who hopped out looking more murderous than ever before, attacking Whiplash before getting on the mic himself (making this sound like a rap battle, it wisnae one, sorry to disappoint) to reveal he would be part of a four way death match at Fear and Loathing also involving Whiplash, Stevie Boy and Chris Renfrew who was summoned to the ring by Havoc to be called a bitch repeatedly. Renfrew’s auld Renfrew instincts told him to jump in there and hammer the cunt, but Whiplash kept him under control. For now. Surely Renfrew is due a mad stabbin spree anytime now.

Bull James vs Kid Fite

This was a right good laugh so it was. Originally supposed to be Bull teaming with Liam Thomson, while also allowing him to sleep in the bath of his hotel room. But Liam’s injury meant nae wrestling and nae roof over his heid for the night. Boy just cannae catch a break. If they have another match and Wolfgang wins his maw hes literally got fuck all left. Unless Wolfgang ever needs a kidney, the game’s a bogey. Liam’s injury meant instead of a tag match with Lou King Sharp and Krieger, they became the hauners for the Da of this team/Scottish Wrestling in general. The sultan of snap suplexin. Kid Fite.

Fito tried in vain to take big Bull off his feet before Bull took him down, following that up by shoulder charging Lou King Sharp so hard he flew right out the venue and landed perfectly on a bar stool in BOX. Ordering himself a double jack n coke wae nae ice while his two pals tried to literally wrestle a bull. The size disadvantage Fito was at was mad apparent when he had Bull down but couldn’t physically turn him over for the pin. Lou King Sharp made it back fae BOX in time to try and turn him over, but the swally had obviously taken a hold because the universally acclaimed muscle man couldnae get the job done. Eventually Krieger was called upon to do the deed, and his success seemed to enrage oor Lou. A bit of a family dispute led to Bull having the opening to enleash aw sorts of jookin n jiving. He even hit a Tornado DDT on Krieger in impressive fashion before the sharp yin took it upon himself to put this matter to an end. I dunno if he expected a bullet to shoot out of his shoulder when he went for the spear on Bull but it didn’t work and while Bull was laughing it off, Kid Fite rolled up him for the sneaky win.

The troops made their way to the back laughing it up while big Bull bemoaned the lack of hauners he was given on the night. Shoulda kidded on ye were into motorbikes and gied The Purge a shout mate.

Kay Lee Ray vs Kasey (ICW Women’s Title Match)

Kay Lee Ray has maybe been my favourite ICW performer since The Hydro. Anything she does when she steps in that ring has authority. It fuckin matters. She carries herself like titles belong round her waist and accolades are rightfully hers. I never thought watching her drop the title she’s made her own since that night she dethroned Carmel in under a minute would be a thing I like but it made a star out of someone who’s deserved that shine for a long fuckin time and in the immortal words of a smiley DDP, that’s not a bad thing it’s….A GOOD THING.

Kay Lee got on the mic and ripped Kasey three or four new arseholes, claiming that while shes good, she’s not in the upper echelon of women’s wrestling and not even on the level of her sister. Upon hearing this, Kasey took what could only be described as a mad ragey and nearly pinned Kay Lee instantly with a superb knee to the jaw. Kay Lee rolled to the outside only to be met by a suicide dive from Kasey, as the Belfast born bruiser (fuckin alliteration daft the day) chucked her back in to beat her with her own move, the Gory Special, followed by another belter of a running knee to crown Kasey the NEW ICW Women’s Champion.

Kay Lee loses her belt to Kasey going tonto on her jaw. Does nae harm to Kay Lee and made Kasey look like a legit badass/borderline murderer. Folk complaining about the “not getting enough time” n aw that, watch them have an absolute stoater of a rematch on night two and tell me it didnae work. As for Kasey, a lot of hard work paying off for her, shes crafted a cracking character and paired with her in ring ability, its nice to see someone who’s grafted at it for a number of years finally get a bit of momentum.

Jody Fleisch vs Super Crazy

Cards on the table, of the announced matches this is the one I was the least hyped about and then they fuckin killed it and made me and everycunt who went “Super Crazy? Why?” when he was announced look incredibly stupit. How dare we question the credentials of a Lucha Granda who’s been at this wrestling carry on for 29 years and still flies about like an Apprentice Lucha on his first day. Jody Fleisch is someone I remember from my younger years doing British Wrestling brilliantly when it wasn’t in fashion and looking in the shape of his life. A couple of auld geezers having the time of their fuckin life out there in front of 1,000 + sweaty Glaswegians. Wrestling is diversity. Diversity is wrestling.

Super Crazy chucked Jody about in amongst the crowd after a bit of lucha sparring to kick the match off. They got back in the ring and Super Crazy hit a drop toehold on to a chair before dropkicking that chair, then doing a mad standing corkscrew thing. 29 fuckin year doing this wrestling carry on and he’s fleein about like Will Ospreay fulla poppers. Jody Fleisch sent him outside with a gorgeous handspring back elbow, then an even more perfect moonsault to the outside. Both men landing remarkable safely on the ramp. Everything Fleisch done over the weekend was flawless, except maybe having the Union Jacks on his gear but loving the Sellik isnae absolutely essential if ye want to become a Snapmare Necks endorsed grappler. Its preferred like, but not essential.

They both went for some death defying top rope stuff. Fleisch missing a shooting star press, before super Crazy landed super hard on a missed moonsault, but Jody was caught napping as he pondered hiring a helicopter and doing a 1080 splash out of it to put Super Crazy away, and Super Crazy rolled him up for the win. Hugely entertaining and they both rolled back the years to put on a cracking show. More Jody Fleisch in ICW please. in fact, fuck it, more of both of them.

Lionheart vs Joe Hendry (Non Sanctioned Match)

Beast feud in ICW this year by a fuckin mile and its been a smashin year so that tells you just how good they’ve both been. Who knows how “real” the whole thing is, but its felt real. Its felt like Bret vs Shawn type of animosity between two guys who are probably similar deep down but something between them has gone a bit wrong. Something in their dynamic got a bit fucked up and that led to them fucking each other up. Big kicks to the temple. Threats of stabbing. Joe Hendry saying a SWEAR WORD. It’s all happened over the course of this bitter rivalry and here’s where it ends. In a match that by definition COULD end in a stabbing without ICW being liable for it. The stabber would still likely get the jail but whit the fuck else to you expect when you stab a guy in front of 1,000 witnesses? A medal for being the tap stabber in wrestling? Mon noo.

It began with them both trying to punch each others cunts in, but both managed to cover their heads effectively and that led to Joe busting out that palm strike into the neckbreaker he does that looks lovely I must say. One of my favourite Joe Hendry wrestling manoeuvres. They went out into the crowd and belted each other off of every hard surface they could find, taking a break to go haufers on a pint cause only kings and sultans can afford a full pint to themselves in the ABC. Lionheart then chucked Joe off a wee ledge, before somersaulting on to him and hunners of fans. The ABC is probably the best venue for mad dives. There are hunners of wee places for that type of madness. Back in the ring, yer man Hendry took a chair to Hearto’s back quite brutally. Seeming conflicted throughout. In the unsanctioned arena there’s nae room for your conscience. Its do or die. Joe Hendry in his normal hear might not be able to knock fuck out of a guy with a chair, but Jeans Hendry with the jeans on? fuckin go for it mate. Jeans Hendry. Chair slingin hero.

The chair attack was derailed with a defiant dropkick from Lionheart, which lead to him daein a bit of D-Vonning. Setting up a table and going up top only for Jeans Hendry to catch him square on the brain with a flying chair. With the table set up and Lionheart bleeding aw err the camp, Joe hit a superb exploder suplex that sent Lionheart through the table before getting him in a chokehold and watching the life drain from his eyes as the ref called it.

Joe Hendry had won, but something beautifully organic happened afterwards. A double turn of sorts as the crowd chanted “Joe Hendry’s A Fanny” parodying his famous ditty about Hearto that started this whole thing. Hendry then took to the mic to cut an emotive promo, telling Lionheart he had to do what he done before a dazed Lionheart hit a Rock Bottom on him to a wild reaction. There’s nae doubt Joe Hendry is brilliant as an arrogant baddie, and Lionheart deserves a run with a bit of momentum behind him so the outcome is a big win-win and the feud was superbly done. Lionheart is a hero chants rang out as Jeans Hendry trudged to the back. Take a bow troops. Good wrestling indeed.

Zack Gibson vs Kenny Williams (Ladder Match for the ICW Zero-G Title)

He is Zack Gibson. He doesn’t do flips. He doesn’t want you to enjoy flips. If he knew what madness was going down in that Fleisch vs Super Crazy match he’d have burned the place to the ground but he was too busy throwin darts at a photo of Kenny stealin HIS belt. This has been a feud full of blatant thievery in all honesty, so the safest course of action was probably taking the belt aff them and sticking it on the ceiling. Gibson told us as SOOOON as Kenny Williams was out cold, then and only then would we see a ladder but within about 30 seconds Kenny had brought one in and Gibson had dropkicked it into his face.

This feud has been another highlight of 2017 and it was nice to see the Zero-G defended on a big show in a match that didnae have “scramble” in the title somewhere. Kenny Williams and Zack Gibson are firmly established as two of the very best in the country. Give them aw the singles bouts. This match was essentially all the mad shit they always do to each other with a ladder somehow wedged into the mix. Gibson hit a slingshot on to a ladder set up in the corner that saw Kenny’s two front teeth knocking clean out his heid, somehow landing in Gibson’s back pocket. Despite missing two of his most important gnashers, Kenny hit a beauty of a back elbow off a wee ladder attached to a big ladder, a move that followed a mad crossbody off the ladder to Zibson on the outside. Gibson hit the Codebreaker on Williams while he carried one of the wee ladders in a move that was probably as sare on him as it was on his opponent. What I like about Gibson is no matter the type of match or opponent, he’s always working the arm. He’s always got the finish line in sight. Everything he does is for a reason. Nae flashyness. Functional, really sare looking, wrestling. They battled on the ladder before both falling back, Kenny landing hard on the wee ladders.

With both men poised on ladders, Kenny hit a smashing cutter off one ladder on to the one Gibson was on, before deliberately running underneath the ladder on his way to a suicide dive that was caught by Gibson. He undoubtedly would have hit the dive if he didnae anger the gods by running under the ladder in the first place. It all culminated in yer classic two guys climbing the ladder, peppering each other with jabs, before one guy ups the ante and knocks the opponent off the ladder. On this occasion it was Kenny who took a maddy, leathering Gibson with about 50 forearms before the man SOOOON to be recognised as the former Zero-G Champion fell off the ladder and Kenny climbed up to become the first ever 3 time ICW Zero-G Champion.

Another feud that hugely benefited both parties. Kenny makes history and comes out on top of an extremely physical feud with some cracking matches while Gibson undoubtedly positions himself as one of the top guys in the company. Of all the English guys ICW have used in recent years, some of whom have flitted in and out and not really established themselves as regulars, Zack Gibson is the example to follow. Don’t settle for being on the odd tour show. Don’t settle for bit part. Carve out a spot for yourself. Break peoples arms. Do it SOOOOOON.

Dickie Divers vs Thomas Kearins

I really dunno what else folk expected from a match between a referee and a wrestler. It was supposed to be a bit daft. It was supposed to provide a bit of respite between a stoater of a ladder match and two of the biggest matches ICW’s ever seen. It started with Kearins up the top rope, completely missing a dive while Divers laughed his heid aff and that set the tone for the whole piece.

Another good thing this “feud” has brought to us is the return of Divers’ running knee in the corner. One of the best executed moves in Scottish Wrestling. Up there with the famed Kid Fite snap suplex, and Divers busted out a snap suplex of his own right after that brought a two count. Stunned that Kearins was able to kick out at all, Divers was even more taken aback by Kearins nailing him with a big boot. He had wee moments like that. He hit yer Da’s favourite flying headscissors ever much to everyones astonishment but whenever he got a head of steam, he got kicked in the jaw. Imagine how much of a doing the ref at a fitba game would get if he decided to take the ball off a player and smash one in the top corner. Stay in yer lane kid. Oversee the grapples, don’t be the grapples. His attempt at seemingly some sort of dive was derailed by a big boot to the chops from Divers.

He seemed a bit done with it at that stage and when he hit a legdrop off the second rope that was probably it but he pulled Kearins shoulder up. Seemingly wanting to inflict more damage but yer man got rolled up for the quick one, two, three! THE REF HAS BEAT THE WRESTLER. SHUT THE WHOLE THING DOWN. Nah I’m jestin mate, Divers of course kicked out and hit a Northern Lights Driver (had nae fuckin idea what to call so cheers to William Grange for knowing the names of aw the moves) for the win.

Divers wasn’t done apparently, as he grabbed a chair to continue the beatdown only for Dirk Mcintosh to appear on the stage. Dirk Mcintosh is a character Thomas Kearins portrayed so folk were aw like “aw man, i mean, if hes there and hes there, WILL THE REAL TAM KEARINS PLEASE STAND UP!?” He did, and hit a DDT on a distracted Divers before giving his alter ego a big thumbs up for the hauners. I don’t even think it was another guy, I think he’s got that special type of schizophrenia where both yer personalities get a body each. I’ll say one thing for big Kearins he does hit a fine DDT indeed.

Simon Cassidy looked positively buzzin as he announced this. Realising the hugeness of what he was about to do. Only time I’ve heard more buzz come from him was when he announced the fuck out of DCT before his cage match with Bram. This was an active WWE Title being defended on a show ran by a UK promotion. Nah fuck that. This was a WWE Title being defended on a FUCKIN ICW SHOW. Involving two ICW LEGENDS and one of its most recent champions. It was essentially a WWE match with ICW spray-painted over the top of it NWO Hollywood style, but if ICW were staging an NWO style takeover, Pete Dunne was Sting. Pete Dunne was the guy who was gonnae single handedly gonnae bring it down.

There were tense moments in the pre match staredown. Wolfgang wondering where the fuck Trent had been for the past wee while, and Trent too sweeting his pal Pete when he entered the ring. A wee alliance there perhaps? Take the two Scottish guys out and keep the belt Birmingham exclusive is it? Wolfgang and BT Gunn weren’t fucking about and when Trent and Pete went out on to the apron to do that Triple H thing where he spits water all over his own face, BT and Wolfy knocked them off the apron. This is for a WWE title. Nae fuckin messin. Be British Strong Style besties on yer own time. Wolfy and BT had the ring to themselves after that and of course knocked lumps out each other because that’s what they do.

They were seemingly taking shots each to fight each other, but Wolfgang decided he was gonnae fight everyone at once. Taking BT down with a spear and hitting a big dive to the outside on Pete and Trent who happened to be out there forearming each others faces to bits. BT Gunn got in on the diving fun with a trust fall dive on to all three men, before Wolfy’s attempt at the Slam Dunk on Trent was thwarted by a stunner of a Half Nelson Suplex. Every single moment of this was fucking incredible and if you’ve not actually seen it with your eyes you need to go ahead and do that right now. Fuck reading this shit. Go watch the match. Go and watch Pete Dunne offer another too sweet to his “pal” Trent only for Pete to drastically reduce the chance of any wee Trent Seven’s running about with a hellacious boot to the baws. Pete Dunne is a fuckin killer and when it comes to shiny belts, he has no pals. Never forget that. When it comes to keeping hold of a fuckin active WWE title he will literally kill a man or at least bite each and every one of his fingers off to make sure it stays round his waist. A pedigree followed for a two count that enraged Dunne so much he nearly bopped Sean McLaughlin before deciding against it. A wise move there Pete. Don’t mess wae Sean. He might no have a mustachioed alter ego or a sweet DDT but he looks like he’s slung a few haymakers in his time.

After that everyone pretty much lost their fuckin minds in the best possible way. All sorts of strikes from all four men. Kicks, punches…purple stuff. You name it, they done it, before they all struck each other with forearms and fell to the ground. Back on their feet they unleashed mad furious punches on each other, it was just a blur of furious British fists, before Wolfgang used BT Gunn’s foot to kick both Pete and Trent, before hitting beauty of a powerslam on BT, followed up with a slam dunk/senton combo from Wolfgang on Pete and Trent, and as BT Gunn went for a crossbody, Wolfgang caught him in another Slam Dunk to end the whole sequence with Wolfgang right on top of three of the best wrestlers in the UK. What a fuckin year the big man’s having, and with the WWE UK Championship and Liam Thomson’s maw in his sights, its only gonnae get better. A whole lot of fun, prizes to be won.

Wolfgang went up for the swanton to finally bring that belt hmae but BT Gunn kicked out. They then both landed in a pinning position from a superplex and Sean counted them both. If it was a double pin again, Sean’s a joiner by trade so 5 minutes wae a hacksaw solves that problems. Half a belt each. Trent hit a stunning half nelson suplex on TWO men at the same time, I thought that would be a better way to describe it than a double half nelson suplex cause then its a full nelson suplex? I don’t fuckin know. This is all too much. Dunne hit the bitter end on Wolfy but BT Gunn was like a man possessed throughout. The only one of the four not currently tied in with WWE in any way but a man who at least proved to everyone watching that he was on that level. Him being mightily impressive throughout this match wasn’t even the highlight of his weekend so that tells ye just how amazing his night two was. He hit a double Gunnshot before Trent almost took the title himself with the same top rope piledriver that saw him take Wolfgang’s ICW Title back in February. BT once again got a taste of the glory with a beautiful three move combination ending in a brainbuster on Dunne but Dunne countered BT coming off the top rope with a huge forearm and retained the shiny belt, bringing a stunning contest to an end with the Bitter End.

It all ended rather amicably which was nice. All four men taking a swig of water before doing their best Triple H impression after it. Well done troops. With the pressure on to deliver all for of you tore the house down. Truly felt like ye were standing watching history so it did. Lovely.

Sha Samuels and NOAM FUCKIN DAR vs Joe Coffey and Bram

There has never been an entrance in pro wrestling so perfect. I will completely admit to be being hugely biased saying that, but to me there’s never been an entrance so marvellous. So joyful that if you could condense it into pill form it could cure any illness. Even that wan that makes ye age backwards. As Sha waited patiently in the ring for his best pal in the whole world, Noam Dar’s WWE music hit and a procession of monkeys in suits came out instead of a cheeky wee monkey in a tracksuit. Sha looked a bit taken aback himself, and even urged the monkeys to calm it when they entered the ring but then the joy came. Then we heard that thunderous opening to Fair City Riots and each and every person within a 50 mile radius of that wrestling ring lost their fuckin minds. Even Sha couldn’t help having a wee dance as Noam made his way out to the tune he mad famous. FAIR CITY RIOTS ARE COMIN TO TOWN, FAIR CITY RIOTS ARE BRINGIN YA DOWN. Fuckin……aw fuck….there he is. In all his glory. For one night only. Your favourite, ma favourite, evdy’s favourite! Noam Dar was back in the building. In his element. Thousands of miles away from ALLLLLLLEEEESHA FOXXXXX. Get the tea on and the tunnocks teacakes oot, oor boy’s hame!

The baddies came out to ruin all the fun, cause that’s what baddies do. Little did Bram know he was just 24 hours away from ruining everyone’s lives. Punching the joy clean out of our collective souls. Joe Coffey stepped out with that shiny belt and started the match staring down Noam Dar. An iconic ICW moment considering the feud they had a couple of years back. My favourite ICW feud in terms of the quality of wrestling matches it produced and thats what it’s all about at the end of the day innit. The auld grapplin. Joe tagged out before they could actually do any grappling, in a villainous move thats up there with him coming out to Simply The Best at Target. Bram was set about by both Noam and Sha, who were looking like a machine as well oiled as Iestyn Rees chest. Joe did get in there eventually, swinging Noam about a bit before locking in a half crab. They isolated Noam effectively for a bit but he eventually made it to Sha for a red-hot tag. Scorchin so it wis.

Bram hit a cracker of a spinning heel kick on Sha and he seemed to gel with Joe very well. Sha and Joe went at for a bit in a enjoyable exchange that could perhaps one day happen for a World Title on the line. Sha Samuels is a main event guy after all. You put him in main events, the result is always top drawer. All of a sudden the action made its way into a crowd that was now at least 95% sweat, Noam hitting a suicide dive before Sha hit the famous Sha-Sault frop the top rope into the crowd. The most aesthetically pleasing move in pro wrestling by a fuckin mile. As they battled in the crowd Joe had Noam in a belter of a Boston Crab but as Red Lightning was rightly saying on commentary, ye cannae win the match there mate. Back in the ring, referee Sean McLaughlin was taken out mistakenly by Sha, leading to all sorts of low blows. Noam clocking Bram’s hawmaws right after he had booted Sha in the crown jewels. Joe Coffey bypassed all the low blow patter, instead hitting the Discus Lariat for what would have undoubtedly been a three count had a referee been present. Nae ref means nae count, and nae danger for Noam as he quickly locked in the X-Wing Kneebar that had Joe tapping, but once again, nae ref, nae party.

With Thomas Kearins knackered from doing a spot of wrestling himself, the only other ref available was Stephen Hughes, who was cleaned out as soon as he hit the ring by Bram, who just 24 hours later would somehow get access to the big red button. Managing to somehow beat Trump to pressing it, launching aw sorts of missiles and killing us all. Bram then hit a fuckin Canadian Destroyer on Sha, which Sha seemed impervious to, hitting one of his own to shatter Bram’s skull. Joe then cleaned Sha out with the discus but a groggy Sena McLaughlin only got across in time to count two.

Joe was removed from the equation completely when his opponent on Night Two Jack Jester emerged and they set about each other all the way to the back, prompting Red Lightning to hop off commentary and break all our hearts. A skill he has finely cultivated over the years. He handed Noam a steel chair and it seemed to be lights out for the Pinky Party. Noam seemed to be joining the big bad baddies. He berated Sha just like Grado had a few months earlier, holding a steel chair in his hand seemingly intent on ruining everyones life a full 24 hours before Bram did, but it was a fallacy. A falsehood. A fuckin big ruse so it was. Sha’s middle fingers turned to Pinky’s, and Noam’s villainous scowl became the widest of smiles as he turned the chair to Bram, before leaving it to Sha to chuck at the big bastard before Noam knocked him clean out with a flying knee for the win. Endlessly beautiful stuff. Still buzzin aff it.

As if all the beautiful wrestling stuff wasn’t enough he rounded it off with a nice wee promo. If the words he said are to be believed he might love us just as much as we love him but surely that’s no fuckin possible is it? Nae way. Nae pinky. Nae part-ay.

From 30 people in Maryhill to 6200 in The Hydro. A fairytale. Rags to riches. Cindarella story. Started from the bottom now we here. Community centres to nightclubs to really big nightclubs to iconic music venues to really big iconic music venues to fuckin full scale arenas. You’ve heard it all before. If you were looking for anything any different from this review I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed. The reason you’ve heard that patter a lot is because it IS amazing what ICW have done. This show happening at all represented monumental triumph not for British Wrestling, not even for Scottish Wrestling, it was a monumental triumph for ICW. For the people who worked tirelessly to get ICW to this point. The fact that it undoubtedly has a knock on effect for the rest of the scene is nice and important but it’s not the whole scene who get to bask in the glow of this. This is for the daft cunts who put their bodies and sanity on the line to make this happen. This was their night. They represented ICW above everything else and showed the world what ICW was all about. No it wasn’t the best ICW show ever. In fact ICW have run and will run better wrestling shows, but it was a remarkable spectacle and a fuckin good wrestling show to boot. A night to be proud of and a launching pad on the way to selling the fucker oot in a years time for Fear and Loathing 10.

It started with a Finn

The only thing more beautiful than Surprise Dev….sorry auld habits n that…Surpise Balor, is a Balor that you were very much expecting. Surprise Balor would have been nice, but the first time it happened I literally had to peel myself aff the fuckin floor. In case your new to this site or new to the concept of having functional eyes, Finn Balor is an attractive man. I’m burd daft mate. Love them. Boobs n that. Boobs aw day. But Finn is the exception. You are a died in the wool lying bastard if you can tell me with a straight face no matter what way you swing that ye widnae scran melted chocolate buttons aff that boys abs. In all seriousness but, it was so very beautiful to see him back in an ICW ring. Something I genuinely never thought would happen again. Not because he told us a lie when he said “It’s not goodbye, it’s just see ya later” he would never lie to us, but I just assumed it was modesty at play and he didn’t actually realise WWE would want to employ him forever and ever. They still do employ him btw, yet there he was, in some parallel universe where ICW run The Hydro and WWE allow contracted performers to appear elsewhere. Like a dream kiddin on its a human being. Balors Irish Dream. He spoke of not wanting to let cunts run riot in the company he loves and that he’d be behind that curtain dishing oot doings to anyone who tries it.

Joe Hendry vs Davey Blaze

This was always supposed to happen eh. Nae offence to “The Local Fire” but that’s a stupit name for a team that never did make a lot of sense. Two guys with completely different sets of ideals teaming for tenuous reasons. Perhaps more unnatural than that, a guy fae Glesga teaming wae a guy fae Embra! Like if Jack Jester suddenly started teaming with Solar or suhin ridiculous like that, you’d know fine well the whole thing was gonnae end with Jester tombstoning him through the centre of the earth. Davey came out first and looked mean because he’s a baddie now, meaning he gets to use the Davey Blaze name and gets to wear the Davey Blaze pants. All very Blaze indeed. He looks exponentially more raging than he ever did and that’s nae mean feat cause he’s always at least a bit raging at something. Joe emerged to his own version of Bohemenian Rhapsody which was pretty fucking wonderful. As much as he wouldn’t much like the injection of profanity there, so fuck mate. I’ll fuckin describe yer brilliant entrance any fuckin way I want. It was heavy good, and the four Hendry heads looking at and interacting with each other was hilarious. It was all a ripping good time then a wrestling match broke out and ruined it aw.

Davey dominated the early exchanges, controlling the bout with jabs and calling people in the front row nasty names. He had Joe in a pretty sare looking Guillotine choke on the outside before Joe reversed it into a superb suplex on the ramp. Joe kept getting distracted by The Wee Man which gave Davey many opening to do many spears. He went up top and got caught and fallaway slammed to buggery because that’s not your forte Davey pal. Only time you should be up there is when you want absolutely everyone in the building to see you grabbing yer crotch as opposed to those just at eye level. While we’re on about crotches, I know he’s from Edinburgh but I’m absolutely not having Joe Hendry continually referring to Davey’s dick as his “Bobby” cause people fae Edinburgh definitely say “Boaby” mate. Even if they say it a bit funny, they say it. Naecunt calls it a Bobby.

Joe gained the upper hand with that mad palmstrike thing he does which I’m very much intae. Its very street fighter as fuck, but Davey’s retort of a kick to the baws was very street fight as fuck. It was all fun and games until Joe took Davey up the top rope and tossed him clean over his heid for the win. A decent opener, and the right spot for Joe’s entrance to be in for sure. Wee Man took a fallaway slam before Davey took Wee Man up the road and Joe was left to soak in the adulation of the adoring public.

Carmel Jacob vs Kay Lee Ray vs Viper (ICW Women’s Title Match)

Kay Lee. Kay Lee. Kay Lee fuckin Ray ‘mate. I know her and Stevie are the fuckin dirtiest baddest baddies on the roster/residing on earth right now but this was their night and it was terrific to see them shine on the biggest stage ICW has ever appeared on. Viper emerged next and I’m nae lipreader but she definitely said “wow” when she went up to the second rope to have a good look at the crowd and that’s just so fuckin nice is it no. A unique moment on a special night. A lassie who’s wrestled all over the globe fuckin gobsmacked at the magnitude of this moment in her home country. The champ followed and if I knew this was the end I’d have greeted it so differently. Don’t go. No yet. There’s still so many more folk who need yer vitriol on the mic. So many more burds and the occasional guy who need DDT’d in tae next week.

She went out on the very top and that’s really sound anaw. Went out as a bad bastard who eviscerates folk on the mic because as nice as it was to be able to cheer her for a bit when she was a goodie, that’s what she was put in out wee wrestling universe to be. Vicious. A killer. Up there with the very best when it comes to saying words and sounding like she fuckin MEANS them. When she stoated out at There’s Something About Maryhill with a mic in hand back in 2013, few were prepared for her to captivate them the way that she did. As a relatively new fan I’d only ever seen her in one or two matches and wasn’t fully aware of how good she could be on the mic and what she done that night blew me away. She’d take to the mic one last time for her final moments as a pro wrestler, but not before she fell on her sword one last time.

Kay Lee and Carmel were unthinkably on the same page for much of the early stages. Both stomping fuck out of Vipers bad knee and looking pure ragin’ about it. It was never lasting though. As much as they take pride in being the originators of women’s wrestling in Scotland, they take even more pride in being able to batter fuck out each other in spectacular and engaging ways. Them joining forces started to backfire quickly, Viper managing to regain her vertical base enough to lose it voluntarily in the form of a cross body which leathered both opponents. Viper then hit Randy Orton’s Chauffeur (The Viper Driver…see whit I did there? Wis pure shite eh?) only for Kay Lee to break it up with a Swanton. She was not to be denied on this night. ICW have only had a Women’s Title for a year now but she’s been the Women’s Champ for far longer. Nae disrespect to anyone else at all, but no woman in the company has been as integral to its growth as her and no other woman in the company got chucked like a fuckin dart by Mikey Whiplash, only to go on and STILL beat the cunt, so she deserved the moment. She deserved the recognition. She was well overdue the shiny shiny gold.

A nice wee three person german suplex thing happened in the corner, before Carmel lulled Viper in by pretending her knee was sare again only to take the knee brace off and crack her with it. Devious till the bitter end eh Carmel. Why be any other way when yer so fuckin good at being that. Kay Lee stopped the pin and weirdly seemed in control the whole way. With both opponents selling knee injuries she just seemed in control, not something that happens a lot in triple threat matches but it always felt like it was going to be hers. Viper was valiant. Carmel gave it all she had in her last ever match, but it was never their night.

It was my favourite finish of the night anaw. Nae ambiguity at all. Kay Lee was hitting mad Gory Bombs on Carmel in the ring, knowing each one was putting her that bit closer to the title but she was smashing Viper on the outside with all sorts of suicide dives, keeping Viper at bay, making sure it was hers. It needed to be, and after a third Gory Bomb it was all over.

Carmel took the mic and basically told us she was done. The words “I retire” never came out her mouth so that leaves some hope that one day we’ll see her back but her words seemed to mean, at least for now, she’s gone. She bigged Kay Lee up about as much as you legally can big up a dirty heel because it made sense. It worked. If she’s gone and has had this sworn enemy for the duration of her time with the company, its only right that the person she done her best ever work with is a vital part of her exit speech, and she’s not fucking wrong. As talented as so many of these wrestlers are, especially Viper, for me Kay Lee Ray is a talent unmatched in the UK and I cannae fuckin wait to see what she does with that belt. Send aw yer best burds. See if they’ve got what it takes to take the title off a woman who would just as quickly stab ye in the neck as she would Swanton ye to keep a hold of that shiny shiny belt.

If it is truly the end for Carmel, its been a pleasure watching her do her thing for the past 4 years. One of my personal favourites and while she’s entitled to her opinion that she no longer belongs in the same ring as the likes of Viper and Kay Lee, I’m gonnae have to respectfully disagree.

Stevie Boy vs BT Gunn (Casket Match)

In the lead up to the show, this was my favourite match on paper, for the simple as fuck reason that its BT Gunn vs Stevie Boy in the fuckin Hydro mate. A matchup that never has any prospect of being anything short of excellent. Two of the best we have in front of a beautifully massive crowd of 6200. For all the chat about imports, the first three matches was made up of exclusively Scottish performers. Infact see the negative patter about the “imports” , it smells like import snobbery. If it was The Young Bucks instead of The Dudleyz and Adam Cole instead of Angle naecunt would have batted an eyelid about it, but because its big names, the show’s relying on imports to sell it. A crock of pure jobby that patter is. Stevie Boy got the jump on BT by waiting on him halfway up the ramp as soon as his entrance music hit, but BT had the pre-emptive jump on Stevie by literally jumping on him. As the casket had been rolled out and was dwelling ominously behind Stevie, mad BT jumped right out it and all of a sudden we went fae 0 to cunts smashing each other in 0.2 seconds.

BT was close to falling in the casket as Stevie performed various moves with this eventuality being his end game I assume. In other words, yer man wis tryin’ lit a berr so he wis. BT would not yield and got back into the ring via a mad spear through (pictured below by the talented gent known as David J.Wilson) the ropes before a mutual scudding session was ended when BT straight up jabbed Stevie. This was nae sort of wrestling “strike” this was a man punching another man square on the fuckin jaw, and that man going down to one knee in anguish. Startled by said scudding. A Canadian Destroyer nearly ended BTs night but he managed to poke a foot out the casket. I actually heavy enjoyed all the wee casket spots. Maybe that type of shit isnae for everyone, but I liked BT dragging Stevie back in when they were both in the casket and Stevie tried to escape. I liked that when the lid was shut for a while, instead of thinking they were in there trying to kill each other the crowd started chanting “Shaaaaaaaaaaaaggin” cause imagine they wur mate. Biggest show of their lives and they’re shaggin in a coffin. Only in ICW eh.

They weren’t shagging, but they climbed out from doing whatever demented shit they were doing in there to get in about some sublime wrestling stuff. All sorts of mad kicks gettin slung towards each others jaws. BT tried to lure Stevie in to the casket with a handful of scud books, a wee satchel fulla tenner eccies and some pieces n jam but to no avail. Disappointed by his inability to end the match there and then, BT decided to just scramble the cunt’s brains with a superkick instead. Ye cannae be filthy as fuck with the most bangin entrance music ever if you’ve no got a brain. Luckily for him he shares that music with the new ICW Womens Champion. A fine set of hauners to have indeed. Out came the champ to tip it in Stevie’s favour, but BT was wise to it and hit them with a double springboard cutter. He’s played this game before and won but it wasn’t to be at The Hydro. They had too much. Kay Lee cracked him over the nut with a chair and as BT hung perilously on the top rope, Stevie powerbombed him on top of the casket, and calmly rolled BT inside. Closing the lid for a career defining win.

Thought they both fuckin nailed it, there were some daft bits centred around the casket but that’s exactly what casket matches are and have always been. It still doesn’t detract from what was an excellent bit of storytelling and a huge power move seeing Kay Lee winning the title in one match followed by Stevie beating one of the best performers in the UK in the following match. The Filthy Generation are proof that the NAK split was the right thing, as they are now primed and ready to become key figures in ICW for a long time to come. The other guy who left the NAK that night has done no bad for himself either eh. Carries about a right big shiny thing and knocks cunts out for fun. Point is, its a story and Stevie and Kay Lee have carved out a beautiful, almost tragic end to theirs. Tragic for Carmel and Viper, one losing a title and a career the other seeing a moment that could have been hers snatched from her. Tragic for BT Gunn as he saw his protege and former best pal shove him into a coffin and close the lid. The only folk who didn’t see their story end in anguish was Stevie and KLR themselves. A pair of low down dirty hooligans who combine their disregard for all human life that isnt their own with a fuckin abundance of wrestling talent. The Natural Born Thrillers.

Polo Promotions vs The Dudley Boyz (ICW Tag Team Title Match)

Polo Promotions are already masters of the tag team craft, the only issue standing between them and being widely recognised as one of the best tag teams in the world is matches like this. Matches where big names get put to the sword. Matches that your casual every day fan forum dweller knows all about. It was enjoyable to hear Bubba on the mic bigging up both the match and Polo Promotions but it was all undone by him ending it with “Lets make it an No DQ!” in a company where every match is no DQ. That’s like getting to 90 minutes in the World Cup Final at 0-0, grabbing a mic and going “We don’t want this to end on a draw do we?! LETS GO TO EXTRA TIME” That was always happening anyway Bubba ma man. Cheers for yer input anyway. No DQ it was!

It was a decent brawl to start with, after the Polo’s jumped on Bubba and D-Von, I assume to stop Bubba getting back on the mic and digging himself an even bigger hole by talking about how happy he is to be in Glasgow, England or suhin else daft. The Dudleyz were on top early and D-Von even looked not completely puffed out for a spell. Rolling back the years with a pouncing neckbreaker and a shoulder tackle where he actually got a few feet off the ground. Polo derailed their wee renaissance with a double clothesline and subsequently scooped the ever loving shite out of the pair of them. So many Dudley scoops. Even Spike Dudley sponteanously stood up and scooped himself through the coffee table in his house. Wife had him committed so she did. Thought he was having Vietnam style flashbacks.

Folk have had a lot to say about the finish to this and obviously the 3D that didn’t happen was supposed to go some kind of other way. It was either badly mistimed or someone missed their cue but who the fuck cares man? Genuinely. No one knows exactly what was planned and no one will ever know because its not our fucking place to know. Its our place to reflect on what actually happened and what actually happened is Jackie Polo hit a spine shattering scoop slam on D-Von, that scoop slam landed on top of a steel chair and that was enough to put the most decorated team in tag team history to the sword. Game, set and STILL champs.

For some reason after the match Davey and The Wee Man decided to take a saunter down to a ring that contained zero allies. Essentially the ring was full of Bloods, and Davey in his wee blue crip pants was like a red rag to a team of bulls. The Dudleyz urged Jackie and Mark to “GET THE TABLES” and they duly obliged. I suppose if Foley couldnae make it there was a cheap pop quota that needed met so it was to be expected, and an assisted powerbomb from Team 3D put Davey through the table. A wee moment of glory for the legends, but the real glory goes to the best tag team in Europe. Yer scoop slammin, cigar smokin, snug workin, leaders of the revolution and STILL your ICW Tag Team Champions. The undisputed Da’s of European tag team wrestling. Polo Promotions.

Lionheart has been unrivalled lately and fully deserved the position he found himself in going in to the show. The fuckin Zero-G king. Considering they were competing for a belt called Zero-G the match was absolutely fuckin brimming wae gravity. A lot of big lads in there and Liam Thomson isnae exactly a high flyer, he does do a mean missile dropkick but none of yer 470 dragonfly senton moonsaults n aw that. The match had a fresh injection of Zero-G’ness when Mick Foley appeared on the screen to reveal that the match would have a seventh competitor. A man who lost his qualifier in dubious circumstances, and a man who’s been down on his luck lately. A man who wasn’t even on the card for the biggest show in Universal wrestling history. The biggest show in the history of sport. He wasn’t even invited to the party, so he had one of his own. Up a ladder with a shiny belt in his grasp.

The match unfolded at a frantic pace and was one of the more eye catching matches of the night. Iestyn Rees and Aaron Echo both cleared the top rope with a pair of stoatin’ dives, before Lionheart superplexed Kenny off the top rope to a waiting group of bodies on the outside. Thank fuck they were where they were supposed to be, because if naecunt caught them, there would be a Kenny shaped hope in the Hydro floor for the rest of time and a new finish to this match due to one of the folk involved in it being incapacitated with a bad case of clinical deidness. Zack Gibson was the first man eliminated, which saddened me as he’s a huge talent. My personal favourite of the English talents that are occasionally utilised by ICW. At the same time it was nice to see Liam Thomson pin someone in The Hydro and his Backcracker out of the corner is a thing of beauty, so it was nice to see both Liam Thomson and that move looking as dyno’ as possible.

His reign as the king of dyno hings was short lived however, as the bold Andy Wild eliminated him with that sexy situout powerbomb he always delivers with aplomb. Lets take a wee moment to appreciate Andy Wild eh. Came from nowhere to earn a spot on this show and not only that, but came from nowhere to deservedly re-take a spot on the regular ICW roster. Hats off to the big man, and how beautiful would it be if this wee story ended with him becoming a 2 time Zero-G Champion? He got in amongst it with Aaron Echo after that. The man who earned his spot in the match the night before with a win over Ravie Davie and he showed he was more than worth the spot with an excellent showing. Beauty of a spinning forearm sent Wild into a daze, but big Iestyn Rees is always about the spoil the party. He only very recently won me over, and doing things like pinning Aaron Echo is a fine way to find yersell jumping straight out of the good books so it is. Remember when yees both done a mad dive together? Remember the glory days? Iestyn Ree clearly does not and we were down to the final four.

Aaron Echo and Kenny Williams are big pals, so fucking with one may lead to the wrath of the other. Even though Lionheart seemed to have big Iestyn under control, Kenny wanted to be the one to pap him out and duly was as he broke up Lionheart’s Styles Clash attempt before pinning Rees with the Quiff Buster DDT. Andy Wild was still in there keeping the fairytale alive, but three became two after a superkick followed by a rock bottom from Hearto put Andy away. A sare yin, but there’s no doubt Andy Wild is back and looking even better than ever since his win over Noam Dar. This wasn’t a wee nostalgia booking, this is a talented guy firmly re-establishing himself and that’s just fuckin beautiful is it no? We were down to two though. Of course we were. It could only be them. It could only end this way. Lionheart standing toe to toe with the natural air to the Zero-G throne. The fuckin bollocks.

Everyone involved in the match deserved to have a spot on The Hydro show so the match made sense and was loaded with entertaining moments. Aaron Echo’s performance had already drawn huge amounts of praise for a very talented guy, but this is the feud. This has always been the thing that needed some kind of resolution and you have to give big Hearto credit for for being that constant thorn in Kenny’s side. The architect of his demise was also the launching pad for probably his best moment in ICW. They slung mad jabs at each other before Kenny took the upper hand by booting a set of ladders in to Lionhearts face. Lionheart’s retort was making a bollocks shaped hole in a mad giant set of ladders. A Rock Bottom while they both battled up a set of ladders each followed that, well and truly bursting Kenny and leading to the debut of his new gimmick. #BURST Kenny Williams coming to a show near you, gibbering about how he’s gonnae delete his brerr and how dyno xylophones are. He didn’t stay burst for long, as Hearto climbed that big banana ladder for another notch on the winpost ,Kenny was having none of it. It’s been Lionheart’s year but this wasn’t his night. The people needed to pop for The Bollocks, and The Bollocks did indeed pop moments later. Kenny hit a mad springboard cutter on Lionheart as he climbed the ladder before managing to rush up and grab the gold. Your new Zero-G Champion.

Hugely entertaining scrap if a bit short. Would have liked to see a bit more of Gibson forearming fuck out of folk but hopefully there’s more ICW’ing in his future. Cannae believe how much big Iestyn Rees has won me over, wee bit wary saying it too much cause he’s proper massive and might see fit to leather me but he was one of the guys I just didn’t get. The whole comparison with Masters and never liking Masters fucked it for him but he has improved a huge amount since his early PWE days and has earned his spot on the roster. Hopefully 2017 is injury free and full of backcrackers for Liam Thomson and it was nice to see him revive an auld feud when him and Andy Wild leathered each other but arguably the biggest impression made from the other 5 guys was big Aaron Echo making absolutely every moment of his time in the match matter. That’s the thing that sets him apart from the rest of the “new” talent in this country. His work in the ring is constantly engaging and everything fuckin matters. Nae wasted motion. If he doesn’t add his name to the list of Zero-G champions by the end of 2017 there’s something no right. He might need to get behind the rapid resugrence of Andy Wild in the queue, as he chases a second reign that would have looked impossible a year ago, but it was Kennys night and after 3 years of show stealing performances and constant improvement no one could begrudge him that. His biggest challenge might just be the guy who stole the show in the very next match.

Lewis Girvan vs Ricochet

It was a night with a lot of big moments. Career defining. Long storylines ending, and new ones beginning. Monumental shit. Arguably the match that had the least on the line storyline wise proved to be the very best contest of the night and probably done more for Lewis Girvan’s career than any other performance done for anyone else on the night. In there with one of the darlings of Indie wrestling in one of the biggest, most widely viewed shows in Indie Wrestling history and Lewis Girvan fuckin nailed it. 180 (darts), 147 (thats the highest break in snooker btw, we’re doing a thing here, bear with me), the perfect hat-trick, first place in the formula one race, the gold medal, the gold standard Shelton Bejamin, to be the best you’ve got to beat the best and Lewis Girvan knocked off a fuckin massive talent that I perhaps didn’t fully appreciate until having the pleasure of seeing him wrestle two nights in a row and thinking “I don’t know what the fuck he just did there, but I know I liked it”

Ricochet fired out a wee tweet a few days before the match about being excited for the show even if he was down the bottom of the poster. Tongue in cheek for sure but perhaps the reaction to it gave him a wee insight in to how passionate ICWs fanbase can be. Don’t get wide mate, yer lucky ye even got the shout to be on the show and so whit if ye were amazin? Yer nae Bob Holly pal. Wind it in. He kicked the contest off by kneeing Lewis Girvan to the outside before nailing him with a suicide dive and a made springbaord dive into the crowd. This was approximately 2.75 seconds in to the match and that tells you all you need to know about Ricochet’s rapid skills. Followed that up with a springboard 450 like it was fuck all. Girvan imposed himself on it with a lovely wee hurricanrana followed by his own version of mad high flying shit as he set Ricochet up on the barrier before going up top and landing on him with an emphatic knee to the melt. Givan’s not about the 720 corkscrew flippedy dippedy stuff but his work is flawless and the mesh of styles was lovely to watch. Tap wrestling stuff right here.

Standing shooting star press reversed into a traingle choke by Girvan was beautiful to watch. The whole thing was just joyful mate. They smashed each other with elbows, forearms, lariats, knees to the baw, Girvan pulled out a BB Gun and fired a few rounds in to Richochets temple, Richochet responded with a 540 shotgun blast to the melt. Beautifully choreographed wrestling warfare. Richochet fired about 70 kicks at Girvan in about 3 seconds before nailing a deadlift back suplex type thing because he also happens to be a fuckin tank on top of all the mad flippy goodness.

His next attempt at flippy goodness was reversed into a codebreaker from Girvan and from that point on it was always his. A Blue Thunder Bomb followed by a pin was reversed into a Crossface from Girvan and after a long sequence of Ricochet trying to get out of that Crossface to no avail he had no choice but to tap. He did manage to gain enough separation to go for the 630 splash but it missed, and after a cracking spike DDT the crossface was locked back in. It was more of a vicegrip than a submission hold and its hard to wrestle at the speed of life if you’ve been choked to death by Lewis Girvan so he made the right call tapping when he did. He lives to fight another day. Hopefully some of those days will happen in ICW. Even if we all need to invest in hard hats so he can fly all over the joint whatever way he wants.

Its been a pleasure to see Girvan find his “thing” in wrestling. He’s been around ICW for 4 years and was always a reliable go to guy for a good match on any card but recently he’s found that connection with the audience that was maybe missing at times. A terrific display on ICWs biggest night will only strengthen his spot and him vs Kenny Williams for the Zero-G will be majestic when it eventually happens. For all the “best young wrestler” patter was used to rip the piss out him at times, he stuck with it and its caught on. Excited to see what 2017 brings for a guy who started off 2016 by repeatedly smashing folk in bollocks as part of the square go, in 2017 he’ll be looking to smash a different kind of bollocks to finally get the Zero-G crown he’s coveted for so long.

Wolfgang vs Trent Seven (ICW Title Match)

Wolfgang is The Undertaker of ICW. That’s not just because they both like driving a motorbike roon the ring. Its not because they both love shaggin deed bodies. Its not even because they both favour a goatee beard over other types of beard its because no matter the character he protrays or the story he’s telling, you can rely on him to be central to any ICW show he’s on. With or without that shiny belt, he’s an icon in this company. With or without catchy Duran Duran entrance music, he’s one of the best performers in the companies history and on a historic night it was only right that he went in as the companies champion. When the big occasion comes, Wolfgang delivers and he was the perfect, unassuming, dangerous baddie to counteract Trent Seven’s overwhelming popularity. Trent had an army made up of more nations than Seven behind him for this one, but folk might have forgot, Wolfgang fuckin runs Glesga. This is his yard, and that steel structure they were stepping in to is his domain. If Trent was going to take that belt from Wolfgang his night would have to be a flawless one. He’d need to stick to the gameplan and no matter what the big bad bastard flung at him, he’d need to get up and show him it wasn’t enough. Most importantly, he’d have to stay true to everything that brought him this opportunity in the first place. Spectacular beard, spectcular principles, and making smart, well timed moves to bring the opportunities he needed to move into position for the title shot. The worst thing he could possibly do is play Wolfgang at his own game, because its his fuckin game mate. He wins. Always.

Trent entered to a wonderfully passionate reception and felt the full power of 6000 behind him, but Wolfgang entered on a motorbike and motorbikes are cool so first blood to Wolfy. Trent wasn’t for fucking about and met Wolfy before he even got in the cage, before they battled their way IN to a 20 foot tall deathtrap. Perhaps an indicator as to where they both are sanity wise, but this is for the World Title mate. Sanity disnae matter a buggery. They started the war by trading Germans. Wolfgang swapping his Bastian Schwiensteiger sticker for Trents Jurgen Klinsmann limited edition shiny. Or suplexes. Whatever makes more sense in a wrestling context. A popup powerbomb had Wolfy in control before he broke out the gold plated demon that managed to topple an army. The brass knuckles that have claimed so many bodies in Wolfgang’s reign added another name to the list but this entrant entered his own name by playing Wolfy at his own game. He managed to get the knuckles and knocked Wolfys two front teeth out with a cracker of a shot, catching them in his back pocket so he could use them to kid on he’s a walrus later before hitting a spinless piledriver for a two count. Aye. Knuckle shot then a piledriver only got a 2. For all the momentum Trent carried in to this, he carried that momentum in to the moment Wolfgang had dreamt about from way before Trent would have even heard of ICW. If he was taking the belt, he was taking Wolfgang’s deid body with it because that’s the only way the big man was letting his shoulder hit the mat for a count of three.

Wolfgang was still well and truly out the game and Trent decided it was time to make like a banana and get the fuck out the steel cage. That’s a saying int it? See the thing about Wolfgang needing to be clinically deid to surrender his belt is that he was in there with a certifiable nutjob. A guy who’s went to lengths we’ve maybe never seen before to get the job done during his unbelievable battles with Mikey Whiplash and if anyone might have what it takes to go to the deep dark place a wrestler needs to go to if he’s able to murder another wrestler for the sake of a shiny belt, Trent Seven had it in him. Kicking out of a superplex from the top of the cage AT A COUNT OF ONE is living breathing proof of that. Mad bastard. I thought they were telling a beautiful story and if I’m honest I wasn’t daft on how it ended. Maybe this isn’t the end of the story, but as Wolfgang tried to climb out and Trent Seven caught him at the top of the cage, you wondered if he was going to a silly thing. He stashed they brass knuckles in his skants, but that’s not where ye use them mate. Not in a cage match. Not at the top of the cage. C’mon Trent pal. Yer better than that. Don’t dae it. Fur tha love ov gawd don’t do it.

He couldn’t resist though, and with them both perched at the top of the cage, with two tables waiting below, Trent inexplicably rattled Wolfys jaw with the brass knuckles and he majestically fell to his certain death, from 20 feet in the air through two tables Trent set up when they brawled on the outside. Becoming your first ever deid ICW Champion. Turns out even death wouldn’t be enough to take that belt from the Big Bad Wolf. Another name taken by ICW’s very own deadman.

I sincerely hope there’s another battle in this between them because it feels like it shouldn’t end on a mistake. The result of the following match might make Trent’s prospects of a re-match a bit more promising but at the end of the day he fucked up and has to own that. A careful campaign to become ICW Champion doon the pan because Wolfgang lured a beautiful man in to a dirty, dirty game. Maybe it just wasn’t his time, but Trent Seven has made an incredible impression on ICW over the past 2 years and there’s no doubt he’ll have more fights like this.

The match for all the marbles as Mark Dallas put it. The match that meant everything. A match that was already loaded with emotion before Drew Galloway decided to douse that emotion in a gallon of petrol and set the fucker on fire by fooling us all with his wee speech the night before. A man who was integral in aiding ICW’s growth when he returned to the company 2 and a half years ago (aye its been that fuckin long since that night, unreal eh) dropping character to announce that he’d miss its biggest ever show due to a serious career threatening injury. Standing side by side with Mark Dallas as he announced he’d have to take a step back from wrestling only to land an almighty shot to his old pal’s jaw and an even mightier shot to his heart. Going in to The Hydro, Team Black Label undoubtedly had the mental edge and with Galloway cleared, even the physical upper hand on Team Dallas. A “team” who’s hopes very much hinged on two sworn enemies putting that shite on the back burner for the greater good.

The entrances indicated they might just be willing to do that. First DCT came out with Coach Trip (with his son, which was a lovely n nice thing to see) and Colonel Mustard and The Dijon 5, the band who do his wonderful entrance music. It was a ripping good time already before Sha came out to his new tune, a parody of Park Life called SHA LIFE which was better than life itself. Normal everyday shite life can fuck off, SHA LIFE is where its at. Renfrew and Grado presented a united front with Mark Dallas, coming out to the ICW music and bumping fists before charging down to the ring for an almighty scrap. Stuff yer sorrows in a sack guys, this is a night to come together, jump about to a bit of Sha Life, and smash some very bad men. For the greater good. For ICW.

Sha Samuels and Kid Fite have been leathering each other for a few months now, without actually ever managing to do it in a wrestling match setting, so it all spilled over when they got in amongst each other at the start of this. Would have liked to have seen them both involved for a bit longer, but their personal battle is for another day. As everyone had split off and picked a guy from the other team to batter, that left Sha and Fito in the ring to have a bit of a barney. Sha hitting a nice spinebuster before Fito eliminated him with that mega sare looking DDT he does. Fito’s joy was shortlived however as DCT snuck behind him for a cheeky wee rollup to pap him out, leaving the former 55, pint swiggin, mug mauling brothers to continue breaking our hearts by fighting to the back. Need to get these cunts together, sit a keg in the middle and let them hash it out like real men by gettin stupidly steamin and declaring their love for each other.

Bram and DCT renewed their rivalry for a bit before Jester snuck in and hit that mad high arcing pedigree thing he does called The Plunge To The Dungeon. Drew finally got his infinite evilness involved in the in-ring action after he nearly took Grado’s heid aff with a big boot. Grado vs Drew seems like a lifetime ago but it was only a year earlier that they combined to rip the roof aff the SECC in an incredible main event. Grado went to the shake, rattle and roll but before he could sharpen that bionic elbow, Drew straight up nutted him. Fuckin sit doon Grado mate. Renfrew was on hand to provide hauners for Grado, a sentence that just didn’t feel possible at the start of the year when they were verbally and physically decimating each other but this was no ordinary night. Renfrew had Billy Connollys big banana feet on for fucks sake, this was a special night. A very Glesga night. Renfrew went for the T-Virus, a move that would nae doubt compromise Galloways burst neck if it hit the mark but it was blocked and he had to be content with delivering one of they big banana feet right to Galloway jugular with the missile dropkick he calls Kiss Kiss Molly’s Lips.

DCT was the next one out, as he intervened in the doing Bram was giving Renfrew in the corner only to see Bram smash him in the baws and put him away with a piledriver. Aw fuck. A team of Drew Galloway, Bram and Jack Jester would be a difficult one for any two man team to topple, but a pair of guys who fuckin hate each other? Nae chance. On an ordinary night it wouldn’t be a go-er, but this night was far from ordinary. Renfrew and Grado shook hands and just fuckin went for it. Why no. Fuck all to lose except maybe their jobs if they didn’t prevail. Nae pressure boaysies eh.

Bram was the first hurdle overcome for the unlikely duo, Grado hitting the R-Gra-Do outta naeplace to send the horrible cunt packing. He left his mark before he fucked off of course. It was never going to be a simple task to get rid of that big hooligan. He knocked the life out of Grado and Renfrew with a chair and left them for dead. Only stopping after Red jumped in to tell him they were deid 5 minutes ago and further chairshots at this point are just gratuitous. Bram eventually did bolt, but the odds of ICW continuing as we know it were shortened dramatically when Renfrew was about to take a shot to the heid with that massive studded dildo Jester carries about, only for Grado to take a bullet for the team and shove him out the way, taking a belting shot to the dome which was enough to see him eliminated. If this was the same, huffy Grado from the night before ICW were fucked. Even though he’d been eliminated the team still needed him. If Bram could stick about after he’d been papped out, so could Grado. Nae rules. Stakes have never been higher. Don’t abandon ship. No yet.

Red celebrated like it was a done deal at that point and you could see his point. Two of the longest reigning ICW Champions ever and best pals, against a beaten and battered Renfrew. Renfrew managed to chuck Drew to the outside to even the numbers up briefly, and in came Grado to provide the timeliest of hauners. Nailing Jester with The Wee Boot, a wee boot that sent him directly into the path of a Stone Cold Stoner. Jester was out, and one of the most emotionally charged feuds in ICW history would decide its future. Renfrew vs Galloway. Renfrew had Dallas in his ear right after Jester’s elimination. Delivering some rousing words. John Lambie-esque. Bring it home or you won’t have a home to go to after this. There’s no doubt his feud with Galloway put Renfrew on another level career wise, but he’d have to be willing to maybe end Galloways career for that journey to continue. You best protect ya neck kid.

They faced off, exhanging jabs before Drew flattened Renfrew with a snap piledriver. Maybe the only way to stop Renfrew going for his neck would be going after his. Renfrew nailed Galloway with a top rope stoner, a beauty of a hit that would somehow only prove to be the second most impressive execution of that move in the match. It looked a certainty to end the match only for Red to drag referee Sean McLaughlin out, flooring him with a jab and taking him out of commission. This is where I really struggle with folk questioning if the Renfrew arm drop thing was a genuine mistake. The original referee was taken out so it WOULD be Thomas Kearins overseeing the rest of the contest. Red, Jester and Drew looked set to put the finishing touches on their masterpiece only for Dallas to burst in like scrappy do on eccies to take the whole lot of them out. Raining rapid rights down on Red. His momentum was derailed by Drew removing his head with that big Claymore Kick but that sequence of events proved to be The Black Labels undoing. Seemingly possessed with a lust to see Mark Dallas personally suffer, Drew continued to batter him, taking his eyes off Renfrew, the man he still needed to pin to win the match and keep Red in charge. Jester’s attempts to get him to focus up fell on deaf ears and words were exchanged between Jester and Drew. Drew seemingly referring to Jester as the weak link, causing Big Kink to get the fuck outta dodge. A moment of anger that would cost big Drew dearly.

He nailed Renfrew with a tombstone that probably would have got it done but nae ref meant nae count. This is where I have an issue, cause questioning if it was a real mistake is just not paying attention to the story. Thomas Kearins was humiliated, fired, laughed at, made to apologise for things he didn’t do, and just generally torn down by The Black Label. He then found himself refereeing a match that decided their future after not being initially assigned to that match. When Renfrew’s hand dropped for a third time when Galloway had that Crossface in. He took a long hard look at Renfrew. Almost willing him to wake up, and wake up he did. The match continued because Thomas Kearins was in charge and decided that if Team Dallas were going to lose, he would lose his job as a result, so it wouldn’t happen on something as underwhelming as a hand dropping three times. Think of it this way anaw, how often do you actually see refs do the hand raising thing in ICW? not often. So why would it happen in that vital moment if it wasn’t for a reason?

Still locked in the Crossface after three drops, it was only a matter of time before Renfrew WOULD pass out. Dallas knew he had nae choice but to thrust himself in the road of a phenom if he was gonnae get his company back but even a golf club accross the back barely made a dent. He swatted it away, before nutting Dallas and getting him in position for The Futureshock DDT. If only there was someone else. One more man with ICW in his heart and scuddin boots on his feet. Finn Balor. It’s never been nicer to see ye pal.

Out came Finn to save the day but his main nemesis in his ICW days Jack Jester soon followed, dwelling ominously behind him as Drew looked on smugly. Fully expecting his Kinky brerr to crack this Irish cunt err the napper and bring it home. Jester was fuckin done though. Done being the hype man in The Drew Galloway Show. He handed that big dildo built for a 12 foot fanny to Finn and he duly cracked Drew over the napper with it, sending him right in to the best 360 Stone Cold Stoner of all time for the one, two, three. Renfrew pinned Galloway. Team Dallas beat Team Black Label. Good had triumphed over evil.

It was high drama and that’s what wrestling is supposed to be about. Nights like this need dramatic, heart wrenching, at times soap opera moments. It wasn’t the perfect wrestling match but it fuckin mattered. Every single moment of it did and when Red Lightning was told he was FIRED it felt real. It didn’t feel like he’d no longer be playing the role of ICWs half owner, it felt like he’d been sacked from his actual day to day job and that’s how it should be. All the credit in the world has to go to that man to making this storyline consistently engaging. Continually holding the good guys down, show after show, letting that frustration towards him build to come to a head poeticall. All the boaysies partied afterwards including Toal, Scott Reid and Sweeney. Sha even took a break from an intense game of deidys with Kid Fite to partake. Grado and Renfrew were co-existing. ICW is a wonderfully merry place without Red Lightning but I hope he’ll be back to spread his expertly crafted misery at some point.

Joe Coffey vs Kurt Angle

This was the main event because it was the fuckin main event. Simple as that. When since was it the role of a wrestling fan to wonder if an “import” had demanded the main event spot. When since did we just ignore the most consistent performer in ICW and perhaps the UK getting a spot he undoubtedly earned in favour of speculating if there’s a reason for it that you can put a negative spin on. The reason Joe Coffey vs Kurt Angle was the final contest on ICWs biggest ever show was the fact that Joe Coffey is one of the best independent wrestlers on the planet and Kurt Angle is a fuckin megastar. A dream match up that diehards and casual fans alike can dig their teeth into, perhaps even more so than the title match or even a match that literally had ICWs future on the line. Wrestling disnae always need to be about stupid dirtsheet patter and letting speculative pish overshadow real significant things that actually happened so leave that shite at the door and enjoy this for what it was. A dream match that pitted one of the best wrestlers in the world against an American guy called Kurt Angle.

Angle entered to a friendly enough reception with a wee chorus of “You Suck!” from the Iron Man daft regulars. Perhaps he didn’t fully realise what ICW was all about until he got his first almost hostile reception since making his debut on the “Indies” after leaving TNA. A much loved, well respected guy, but he wasn’t OUR guy. The guy who stoated out to The Hydro as a walking saltire. It was the second time I’ve been near greeting in The Hydro in the space of a month after seeing oor Noam make his RAW debut in the very same building a couple of weeks earlier. They might be in different places career wise right now, but they both have career making moments in that building within a couple of weeks of each other and that was a beautiful thing. Angle got a lovely reception when he was announced, because naecunt really thinks he sucks. A lot of folk just liked the guy he was facing that wee bit more.

After a very wrestling opening, with a whole manner of tie-ups, side headlock takedowns and all that carry on, Joe gained the upper hand with a beauty of a missile dropkick that caused Kurt to spill to the outside. Fuck taking another one of them. Ye don’t win Olympic Gold Medals by standing there and taking hunners of missile dropkicks. How much better would Olympic Wrestling be if it did have missile dropkicks though? And run ins? The Jamaican wrestling team run in to some trouble so Usain Bolt literally does a run in but its so fast that naecunt actually sees it. Kurt lured Joe to the outside and jabbed him a bit, before they went back in and Kurt went up top, only to be caught and belly to belly suplexed by Joe. Top rope belly to belly suplexes are another thing that could definitely improve Olympic Wrestling, but it was a move straight of Angle’s post Olympic playbook. Yer man fuckin loves a rope assisted suplex and his nose would have been knocked well out of joint by Joe getting one in there first. Add that to getting paint all over him within about a minute and Kurt was not a happy chappy. Time for a wee bit of ANGLE SMASH.

He needed to rake Joes eyes to get a bit of respite from the battering he was on the sharp end of but even then, Joe floored him moments later with a big shoulder tackle. For a guy who’s been there, seen it, done it all, bought all the t-shirts,and cut them into wee vests, he seemed to be struggling to come up with answers to what Joe was chucking at him. Joe smelled blood and went for the Lariat but the cat like reflexes of Angle kicked in to gear and suddenly he was stringing together German Suplexes. Three of them got him a two count as he finally looked to be making a bit of headway but his Angle Slam attempt was expertly dodged, and turned in to a German from Joe. The second attempt hit the mark but nae amount of Angle Slammin was getting the job done the night. The only kind of slam capable of putting Joe to the sword on his big night would have been a world famous Jackie Polo scoop slam on top of a chair. Nae Olympic Gold nonsense was even making a dent. Joe did carry a problematic left leg injury in to the match though, and well, Kurt Angle is maybe the best in the world at turning a sare leg into a broken one. The ankle lock was in and Joe was in serious bother.

He somehow battled out of it and not only that, Aw The Best For The Bells hit the mark moments later. That’s what his Discus Lariat is actually called. No Black Coffey, the Costa Clothesline or any other daft coffee related pun, but Angle got the shoulder up and moments later he once again had Joe in real bother. Serious shit. Squeaky bum time. Joe was in agony but even if Kurt locked it in tighter and even if he snapped Joe’s ankle clean aff and smashed him over the heid with it, he’d still didn’t have enough to get the job done. This was Joe’s night and as he locked Angle in the No Mercy Boston Crab, he never looked like he had it in him to get out of it. Angle duly tapped and Joe had the moment he unquestionably deserved. A fitting end to ICWs biggest ever show.

Angle tapped out to a Boston Crab so any question of him being an egotist that demands main events surely goes out the window there. He got on the mic and said some very nice things about Joe, signalling his intent to come back for a rematch before leaving Joe in the ring to enjoy his moment with his people. A moment he earned by consistently stealing show after show. With Red Lightning gone from the company, it might have been a moment that saw the last of the roadblocks standing between him and a proper reign as ICW World Heavyweight Champion removed. He definitely has a score to settle with Wolfgang and if he has to smash 29 other guys in Newcastle to earn another shot, he’ll no doubt climb that mountain as well.

A hugely enjoyable night. Enjoyed it personally a wee bit too much, to the point that I immediately whiteyed in a hedge after the show. A hydro hedge fulla whitey. Everyone involved should be immensely proud. If we’re giving it a star rating I give it a million magic stars out of 1000 chocolate starfishes. Chocolatey good so it wis. Star ratings for wrestling is stupit. Look at all these people. I give getting that many people into a building for a Scottish Wrestling show 4 billion stars.

Many thanks to David J.Wilson again for the wonderful photos. A very talented man who is a huge part of these shows. Seems to always manage to capture the special moments as they happen.

August the somethingth 2012. I stood in The Garage nightclub for only the second time ever, eyes fixed on this wee wrestling ring with a patchwork blue canvas that looked like someone had stapled a B n Q tarpaulin on the actual canvas underneath to cover up some unsightly blood or spunk stains. Honestly, aside from being aware of Grado thanks to my pals who had been at the show previous going “check this funny wee cunt oot! he wears a bloody bumbag!” and being told Lionheart had wrestled for both TNA and WWE (probably because he had taken great pleasure in announcing it at the previous show, but thats neither here nor there m8s, bow down to your Zero-G king) I had absolutely no idea what to expect from ICW. This mad Scottish Wrestling thing that had built up a bit of a cult following thanks to some chaotic shows in Glasgow’s City Centre and a late night TV show cancellation because some helmet spending his Da’s money didn’t think there was any problem firing things like blood soaked brawls and grown men attacking each with dildo’s on at 6 in the fucking morning. The night began with this wee fuckin probable chino wearing, hair swooped to the side, smiling at you like he’s better than you in every way shape or form arrogant wee cunt cutting a promo about exactly how much better he is than you. About how your maw thinks of him as “the son she never had” and they talk about you behind yer back. Basically, what I seen in front of my very eyes was a wee dick. That wee dick had his arrogant promo interrupted by Wolfgang and they had a match that very quickly told me this ICW caper was nae fuckin joke. That arrogant wee dick would go on to conquer the world. That arrogant wee dick was Noam Dar.

That was probably the only show I attended that he portrayed that character and he very quickly shed the cockyness to become one of my personal favourites on the scene, thanks to his unrelenting wrestling talent and general being a sound cunt-ness, but that match with Wolfgang stuck out because it was the very first match I’d seen at a Scottish Wrestling show and well….if this wee 18 year old, who looks like he weighs 4 stone soaking wet can be this good…..how good are the rest of the cunts on this show? As it turned out, ICW were spoiling us by opening the show with two of the very best but even after the show that thought lingered. How in the name of god can this cunt be 18 and be better at wrestling than I’ve ever been at anything? When I was 18 my two main achievements in life were beating the second ranked player overall in the world at Pro Evolution Soccer, and my da getting me Paul Dickov’s autograph at a charity night. This wee cunt’s going toe to toe with behemoths like Wolfgang and knocking them stupid with all sorts of mad kicks and things that bend your legs in ways that legs are not supposed to bend. That first year of attending shows cemented the love for Noam’s talent. A main event spot against his pal Lionheart at Oran War showcased his ability to captivate an audience well before he’d gained the experience necessary to be so unspeakably good at it. As a cunt a solid 4 years older and decidedly less talented it was difficult to figure out if I was possessed by envy at his talent or just completely captivated by it but either way, I needed to see more of whatever sorcery was at play to create the fuckin magic he comes up with in that ring.

As would be the case with any teenager told that the world one would day be theirs from a very young age, there were teething problems. Being one of the few talents coveted both north and south of the border he could pick and choose his shows and sometimes those choices perhaps brought the ire of the promotions who gave him the opportunities to get to the stage where he was seen as a must have talent for promotions up and down the UK, but at the end of the day, that’s no Noam’s fault and making that early impression down south was no doubt essential in making him the performer he is today. Cause fuck yer comfort zone. Swap it for a miserable 10 hour megabus hellride and get doon to that London to snap peoples knees in half. Its what god, yer maw, yer da and and aw yer mad uncles intended for him. ICW has always been his home though. ICW was the place that made him. As he said in his own words last night, when he walked into the Community Centre in Maryhill, his life changed forever.

He always thought the pinnacle of his wrestling career would be one day making it to WWE, but on the 8 year journey he took to get there, he found a wrestling education and a home in ICW. Last night, he finally flew the nest. Its a natural thing in life to move on from the place you grew up in, and as much as I hope he comes and says hello whenever he can, it’ll be a sad day if we ever see him in ICW in a professional capacity again. That will mean they didn’t see it. They didn’t see what 700 folk were on the verge of simultaneous tears over in The Garage last night as he gave us one last masterclass against arguably his best opponent and one of his best mates in Andy Wild. The gift he possesses and the age he is should mean this is a lifetime gig for him, and if Fergal Devitt can make it to the very top, you better fuckin believe Noam Dar can follow suit. This isnae just a talented wee guy for the Cruiserweight Division they’ve signed, this is a guy, if given ample opportunities, can be a leading man in the world’s leading wrestling company so if he’s ever on an ICW show again professionally, ye can assume Vinny Mac has fucked it. Just like he did with The Chosen One, but this time with The Special Wan.

Of course the ending had to be beautiful. It couldn’t be any other way could it. Andy Wild was the Zero-G Champion right as ICW were on the cusp of big shit. He was on the first two 1,000 plus sellout shows, and stole one of those shows in a match with Noam that really had no right to be match of the night. A card loaded with heated feuds and “money fights” and a couple of pals having a scrap for the fuck of it blew the rest of it out the water. So Noam used his final match to pay it forward. Shining a bright light on a tremendous talent we should all be more aware of and having another absolute stormer of a match, ending with an emphatic sitout powerbomb to give Andy Wild the win. Paying it forward to the guy who grew up with him in wrestling, and showing his appreciation for the guy who might have taken a slightly different path in wrestling and life, but is a bigger part of Noam’s success than anyone really knows. While his farewell words encouraged the fans to continue to support ICW as a company and the talent in the back, he’ll hope beyond hope that a byproduct of his departure sees the re-emergence of Andy Wild as a regular in ICW. The guy who beat that guy fae the WWE, ye know the wan? wee Jewish fella? Cruiserweight classic? Robbed aff the ever so bendy probably at least 75% elastic Zack Sabre Jr? Aye. Ye ken who I mean. Yer a smart kid. It was classy to give up having one last win in ICW knowing how much the win would do for Andy Wild and it was just a reflection on how classy the wee cunt is in general.

So for that magical night in The Garage where you overcame Drew Galloway to keep a hold of your job, being swept aff the upper tier balcony like an empty pint tumbler in the process, we thank you Noam. For that beautiful best of 5 feud with Joe Coffey, for my money the best pure wrestling feud I’ve seen in ICW, we thank you Noam. For every single time you and Andy Wild stole the show across the past 5-6 years, we thank you Noam. For the fun and games of The Pinky Party in the last few weeks, we thank you Noam. For every dive, every kneebar, every wrist kiss, every time ye namedropped “Martin Smiff wae the big beard” in a promo (so one time) every single anything you’ve done in ICW and Scottish Wrestling in general, we thank you Noam. Naw fuck it, I thank you Noam. Personally. For making each and every show you were ever on that much more fun. Just by being you. Thank you for being the reason Sha Samuels is allowed to smile on shows now, because how the fuck could ye not if Grado and Noam are yer best pals? He might be the best villain in Europe but in ICW at least, he’s now better known as the worlds angriest good guy, but there was nae anger last night. Only genuine emotion from Noam himself, Sha, Grado on facetime fae America (to the one cunt who gied it “Fuck TNA” when they seen Grado, fuck up and fuck off) everyone gathered on the stage to say their goodbyes. The sold out crowd chanting his name over and over and over until they couldn’t chant it anymore. Until the tears took over. Thank you Noam. He’ll see things we’ll never see, but the memories will live forever.

Thank you to David J.Wilson and Robbie from Warrior Fight Photography for the photos. And thank you to Noam Dar for being Noam Dar. Have I said that enough? One more time wae feeling eh. WE LOVE YOU NOAM…WE DO…WE LOVE YOU NOAM…WE DO…WE LOVE YOU NOAM …WE DO…OHHHH NOAM WE LOVE YOU.

Pro wrestling is about moments. Back in January at the Square Go, after a 2 year long violent journey, Chris Renfrew defeated Grado in the most emotionally charged ICW match in history to become ICW World Champion. His reign lasted just over a month, before he became the first victim of “The Troubles” (thats what Big Damo calls they rapid elbows btw) and finally getting that emotional moment he worked so hard for, it all fell apart at the seams for Chris Renfrew. Banned from the company he loves, no longer entitled to compete for the title he fought so hard to win, watched his NAK family disintegrate in front of his very eyes and as of right now no longer even employed by the company, his loyalty to Mark Dallas cost him his family, his title, his job and the place he calls home. While Renfrew stood up for what he believed in then watched it dismantle his world, someone very close to him made a different decision that night. It was almost like he foreseen Renfrew’s plight and decided he wanted absolutely nae part of it. That’s the man with the knowing smile and the sleek looking briefcase pictured next to Renfrew here. That man is Wolfgang.

Say whatever the fuck you please about how this night ended. As paying customers you’re entitled to it and if you were annoyed by how it played out, by all means have a right good moan about it, but don’t try and tell me Wolfgang does not deserve to be where he is. If ICW was built from the ground up, yer man laid the foundations and helped lay the first bricks. Before ICW was selling out yer SECC’s and running places like The Hydro, Wolfgang was one of the major players in getting the company within pumpin distance of these extraordinary feats by helping establish a cult following for the company across Glasgow, and as if I don’t go on about it enough, but Wolfgang vs Prince Devitt changed the way I viewed pro wrestling as an adult. As a live experience and as a standalone wrestling match it blew me away and got me personally hooked on the very special scene we have here, so as Prince Devitt aka Finn Balor gets ready to main event WWE Summerslam this Sunday, how could it be an injustice that his opponent that night sits atop the ICW mountain? Isn’t that the least the big brute deserves after years of leaving them slack jawed with his deceptive agility and that he seems to seamlessly mesh with raw power? Ever think the reason you weren’t thrilled when his moment finally came is that he’s just that good at being a belligerent baddie that all of the good things he’s done before no longer mattered? Think about it. The guy famed for being able to perform physical feats guys his size shouldn’t be able to, became ICW champion by knocking an already knackered champion out with a pair of brass knuckles. If that’s not truly becoming a “villain” I don’t know what the fuck is.

ICW Shugs House Party 3 was as about as wrestling as it gets. Good guys done good things, bad guys done bad things. Bad guys became good guys and joined up with their good pals. Bad guys said good things about good guys. A bad guy and a bad burd fought a good guy and his good pal. A good guy avenged the untimely loss of tash and a wedding ruined at the hands of a very very bad guy. A guy helped a guy he vehemently hated 6 short months ago for the greater good of the good guys, and the bad guys walked away smiling despite their hardships earlier in the night, because bad times don’t last, but bad guys do 😉

The night started with Billy Kirkwood pump…I mean introducing the show with So Cal Val who was there doing backstage stuff for the Fite Network, before a vitriolic bit of promo work from The Wee Man ahead of the Tag Title Tournament final got us started wrestling show wise. A promo he ended with “wrestling is for kids” because if turning into a black vested supervillain wisnae enough, he wanted to become a sworn enemy of the virgin community anaw.

To be the champs you have to beat the champs…

The Local Fire vs Bird and Boar – Final Of The ICW Tag Title Tournament

The become a champion you have to beat a champion. Unless its a new title, or the former champions are deid or in jail, that’s the rules. Mark Coffey and Jackie Polo are still alive and as far as im aware, whilst they “left” ICW, that really just means they were no longer looking for bookings from that company. They didn’t leave permanent positions, so if they decided to once again make themselves available for ICW duty, they immediately become the ICW Tag Team Champions once more, and yer wee dug and pony tourny means ride aw.

Having said that, Bird and Boar and The Local Fire have been the undoubted successes of the tournament that seen many more well known teams fall by the wayside. Bird and Boar becoming more established in the company having beaten The 55 and The Sumerian Death Squad to get there. The Local Fire going from a bit of an on again off again patchwork team to one of the most established and cohesive teams kickin about. They even do songs together now, and when they jump in for a wee Mcdonalds they know each other’s order off by heart; singing it in perfect harmony while the cunt at the till wonders what kind of alternative dimension they slipped in to. Anyway, Mark and Jackie unfortunately aren’t here and working off the assumption that they won’t be back, we’d just have to accept the winners of this as the tag champs eh.

Davey had a gammy foot and was limping about a bit throughout the match. Combining the limping with calling Wild Boar fat a few times, while Wild Boar responded with mad sentons. Loves a good senton so he does. Davey took a right horsing for a bit before hitting Boar with a move he calls Tramadol Nights and tagging in Joe Hendry for some rapid lariats and a ddt. With the momentum successfully shifted, Joe hit a fallaway slam on BOTH the bird and the boar, before the two teams stood toe to toe leathering each other with heavy forearms and jabs. Bird and Board bust out their double team move Mrs Pattersons Revenge, which is probably a reference to some mad Welsh carry on, but its a cracker of a double team effort involving knees and frog splashes. It would be a double team effort that would bring the contest to an end as well, as a double team fallaway slam crowned The Local Fire your NEW ICW Tag Team Champions.

Can there really be new champions if the old ones still exist? As purple and pink blood still runs through the veins of the ICW Tag Titles (in this metaphor, the titles are living things btw) Polo promotions still have a legit claim to the tag team throne, and when the their music hit and the troops emerged, it immediately rendered the whole tag title tournament irrelevant. Nah I jest, its an achievement and we officially have two sets of champions now, but The Local Fire’s reign will always be shrouded in doubt until they beat the guys. Not the good guys, not the bad guys, THE guys. The Real Deal and Nature’s Gift To Grapplin. Polo Promotions. As they stopped at the top of the ramp to survey the supposed new kings of the tag division, Polo sparked up a cigar. 50 quid doon for smoking indoors, not even the beginnings of a fuck given. It was an almighty statement, and even if they aren’t back for good and just fancied fucking with whoever happened to win the tournament, that wee 5 minutes of them coming out and staring Joe and Davey down was enough to tell you that these cunts NEED to be back in ICW. The level of fan support and talent they possess makes them essential.

Lionheart (c) vs Kenny Williams (ICW Zero-G Title Match)

Lionheart may or may not be a fanny. Its not for me to tell ye if he is or isnae, and I certainly wouldn’t go writing articles about it or that, but one thing he most certainly is, is a smart man. A man who knows that when your opponent is making his entrance and you are yet to enter, for that wee moment in time, he’s no got a fuckin clue where you are. Ye could hop in a taxi to your opponents gaff and ride his missus for all he knows, he’s too busy jumpin aboot high fiving folk to have any clue. Lionheart didn’t jump in a taxi to go n pump Kenny’s missus but. Instead of hitting it fae the back, he hit Kenny in the back, giving the champion the upper hand from the word go. Smart thinking for a fanny eh?

Kenny quickly got a foothold in the scrap though, as the pair briefly flirted with the ring before making their way into the crowd. A wee battle on the bar, led to Lionheart tumbling to the floor and Kenny loassin the plot. He climbed up on to the wee ledge above the bar and yer man only went and hit a moonsault from about 20 feet in the air. I appreciate Lionheart’s abilities and have enjoyed his run with the Zero-G belt immensely, but if one of the two guys in this match is a “bad motherfucker” its the one wae the hi-tops and skinnies, daein death defying moonsaults.

They got in amongst it in the ring with the wrestling moves and whatnot, leading to a beauty of a spot where Kenny tried a top rope Hurricanrana only for Hearto to catch it with a Styles Clash in mind, before Kenny regained his momentum and hit the ‘rana after all. Tap stuff fae a cuttla tap boays right err. It was a belter of a match as it always is between these two, and Hearto showed more character than a Brendan Rodgers post most interview when he got the shoulder up after the Quiff Buster, before Kennys world was turned upside down when he became a TWO TIME ZERO-G CHAMPION…..for about 5 seconds. In a rare error, referee Sean McLaughlin counted three, when Lionheart got his foot on the ropes at 2. Senior referee Thomas Kearins came out giving it aw that “haw haw, hey hey, whoah there, ell Leeeeonhearto had the old fit on the rope there buddy, restart this mother!” and restart it they did. A pair of superkicks, a rock bottom and a frog splash later, Lionheart had retained.

LT Degree With Debbie Sharp

Liam Thomson is one of the best wrestlers in Scotland. One of they guys who never has a bad match so he is. Tidy in all aspects of the wrestling game, particularly any aspect involving the backstabber. The LT degree has been an entertaining romp for the past few months and has proven that he has the patter to match his skills in the ring, but I’d say its had its day now and it would be lovely if we could see oor Liam do a bit more of that wrestling thing he’s so very good at. This episode was so that he could tell Debbie Sharp he actually likes her, only for Debbie to reveal she actually wants to pump Sammi Jayne. Sammi politely rejected the applibaetion (thats lit…an application to become bae…….wordplay n that) and Liam got heavy raging before Christopher Saynt appeared with a group of drag artists. Liam and Saynt had a wee standoff, which led to Liam referring to the group as “trannies”, leading to a swift slap to the dial from the tallest one wae the crackin set ah pins, and a flying kick from Saynt. I love ye Liam mate, but transphobia isnae funny. Hopefully this will signal the end of Liam Thomson doing more talking than wrestling as it looks like Thomson vs Saynt in the near future.

DCT vs Bram

ICW ring announcer Simon Cassidy is great at his job. So much so that every single person he introduces is done with the same level of vigour. Professionalism at its finest. With one exception, and that exception is whenever he gets the truly unique honour of introducing his best friend, a certain Mr D…..C……T. On this occasion, he got to introduce his best friend as he made his way into a steel cage match on a fucking PPV so Simon gied it fuckin laldy for him as the big man made his way to the revenge pit. The steel sided warzone where Bram would finally have his comeuppance. I know its wrestling, I know him and Viper aren’t really married, but in this wee world of ours everything is real and that big bastard fuckin piledrove your missus through the cake on the happiest day of your lives. Get him fuckin smashed, not in the name of “fuck TNA” or any other trivial pish, do it because that’s how DCT handles his business. An eye for an eye. An erse slap for an arse slap. A piledriver for a piledriver.

DCT was a man possessed in the early stages. And no the usual kind of possessing that happens to him when his eyes turn red and he starts shagging everything in a 20 mile radius.This was pure “I’m gonnae rip your heart out, shite on it, put it back in, rip it out again, wash the shite aff it, then eat it” vibes as he sent Bram over the barrier as the battle started before Bram could even make it to the cage. A procession of scoop slams followed, but a wise man once told me “no one gives a shit about the moves we do” so I’ll try and keep that kind of patter to a minimum to avoid boring the tits clean aff yees. Bram had a spell of, for the lack of a better term, knocking the living fuck out of DCT for a bit, but DCT would not yield. He’s the guy that got whipped to within an inch of his life wae a belt the first time he “wrestled” in ICW and he’s the guy who had to stand idly by and watch his poor missus get her arse skelped before being sent scalp first through a big cake. He’s been through worse than a few heidbutts and a pair of middle fingers from a beard wae a thug attached. Come ahead ya big diddyride.

All of a sudden after a dropkick and a wee stumble back, Bram found himself in the exact same position DCT did that fateful night a year ago. Arms tied up in the ropes. Forced to see the horror unfold. This horror wasn’t seeing his spouse get her heid split in two though, this horror was seeing his own heid get caved in as DCT rained rapid jabs down on Bram’s skull, but auld lumpy hud tae ruin it eh. With the ref down, big Flex came to Bram’s rescue but a decidedly less lumpy being had DCT’s back as the ol ball and chain came to her man’s aid. Viper climbed to the top of the cage and crossbodied the daylights out of both Bram and Flex, before Coach Trip dragged Flex out the ring and out the equation altogether, leaving DCT free and clear to climb out the cage and soak in the adulation of 1,200 screamin “OH” at the top of their lungs. First time he’ll have heard such a thing since he ran through 50 hen parties in the one night back in the day. DCT wasn’t interested in their adulation yet though. Not until justice had been served. Justice for the ruined wedding, justice for the tash, justice for just being an unpleasant big bastard in general. Justice for having Viper in his grasp once again, how fuckin dare ye mate? DCT put victory on the back burner to come to his wife’s aid, before scoop slamming Bram from the top of the cage and scudding Bram with the polo mallet and escaping once more, but nah. Not yet. An eye for an eye. A piledriver for a piledriver.

That moment where DCT replicated Bram’s arse slap/piledriver combo to enable him to pin the big brute and win the match felt like a career maker. DCT isn’t some kind of technical wizard in that ring, but he can fuckin fight and has more charisma than many who fit the stereotypical “wrestler” bill better than he does, and he deserved to pin a bit internationally known cunt on his PPV debut. He deserved that moment. He deserved to have a match that people will talk about for a long time to come, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more personally buzzin for someone to get that moment. DCT for life. Oh.

The Black Label vs Noam Dar, Grado and ???? (Team Dallas)

Sha Samuels is the most natural villain in British pro wrestling. To the point that using him in any other fashion is just not using him right. It would be like buying expensive paint brushes and using them to batter emulsion on tae yer bedroom walls. Having said that, there’s always an exception. John Cena was a bad guy once anaw mind. A battle rapping bad guy to be precise. So in a world where the guy who slings a ridiculous amount of merch to kids can be a battle rapping, doctor of thuganomics, there’s certainly room for the East End Butcher to pal about with his two bestos. It wasn’t looking likely right enough, as Sha came out with the rest of The Black Label as per usual, but when Team Dallas emerged still a man short, and surveyed The Black Label from the entrance way, you could tell something was afoot. There was nae hint of worry amongst the troops, in fact they looked quite confident. Gallus even. And when Grado gied it “no pinky…no party” we all knew. Sha had dropped a wee bit behind the rest of The Black Label and pointed his pinky towards the sky, before starting to leather fuck out the label as Grado and Noam joined him. SHA SAMUELS IS THE THIRD GUY. HE’S ONE OF OUR OWN! HE’S ONE OF OUR OWWWWWWWWWWN. SHA SAMUELS. HE’S ONE OF OUR OWN!!

The Pinky Party rained down mad rights n lefts on The Black Label before Noam landed a beauty of a suicide dive on a selection of them. Grado went up top for a wee slice of senton action, before Sha rounded off the high flying madness with a flying elbow off the top. Imagine villain Sha daein a flying elbow and sending the crowd daft? Unthinkable, but the times are a’changin and that means keep an eye oot for any flying Sha’s in your area. Red Lightning got right up in Sha’s face after that, before Sha chucked him in the ring for a staredown with Dallas which was broken up when a wrestling match broke out amongst the carnage. A fuckin wrestling match mate, who’d have thunk it.

Sha predictably got isolated and battered for the first part of the match. Not predictable cause he gets battered a lot or that, purely because he’d literally just turned on the guys he was against and they might not have been very happy about that. He finally got back to his buddies and tagged Noam in for what has to be the hottest tag in the history of pro wrestling. I’m no exaggerating mate. Folk in the front row were liberally applying suncream on their domes such was the ferocity of the heat kickin aff this tag. Noam went mental for a while, slingin mad dropkicks, before tagging Grado in for a tag that was even hotter! I’m no kiddin guys. Somedy stuck an uncooked beef joint, yorkshire puddings, totties and veg next to this tag, and 5 seconds later they had a beef dinner sittin in front of them. That’s how hot it wis. His momentum was short lived as Drew and Wolfie hit Grado with a double team Razor’s Edge off the second rope, before it all went a wee bit mental and we had everyone battering everyone, including Sweeney getting ko’d by Wolfgang and Scott Reid heroically hammering Drew Galloway in the baws.

Drew recovered from the baw bashing and managed to turn a wee boot attempt from Grado into a big fucker of a powerbomb, before locking in that crossface aided by Jesters big chainmail dildo/orifice maimer, only for the lights to go out and just like Shugs House Party 1, everything changed. That night the lights going off and coming back on saw Drew Galloway return, and cost Chris Renfrew the ICW Title. This time Renfrew was the guy costing folk important shit as he hit Galloway with a stoner before dragging his sworn enemy Grado on top of Drew for the 1,2,3. Team Dallas wins.

Dallas took to the mic to give an emotional speech about how ICW is for everyone and you can be yourself, so I guess that means Sha Samuels is actually a really nice guy deep doon if this is him being himself eh? A nice guy with unlimited access to meat cleavers right enough, so don’t get wide just because he’s allowed to be pals with Grado and Noam now. The moment where Sha joined the boaysies was incredibly beautiful and one that’ll not be forgotten. Nice that he gets to team with Noam a few times before he leaves us aw behind and becomes the most famous jew since that polis Mel Gibson slung racial slurs at.

Stevie and Kay Lee’s music man. I know they’re baddies and that’s fine, they wear it well, but that tune is just too good. Its enjoyable in a way that makes ye want tae tan a bottle of buckie and 4 eccies in a wanner and spend the rest of yer night heidbutting a face ye drew on yer own hand. BT Gunn revealed his mystery partner to be ICW Women’s Champion Carmel Jacob, meaning Carmel and Kay Lee would be renewing their long standing rivalry for the first time in a while in ICW. Exciting, gid wrestling stuff all round.

They all proceeded to set about each other, and in terms of chemistry in that ring, Stevie and BT are better at setting about each other than any other two people in the company. Carmel and Kay Lee probably coming a close second. In fact Kay Lee and BT have bags of it anaw, which makes you wonder if there’s anyone who doesn’t have in-ring chemistry with BT Gunn. He’s just that fuckin good, ye could fire a mop wae slinky’s for arms in there with him and he’d drag a cracker of a scrap out of it. Kay Lee and Carmel battled for a bit, Carmel coming close with a Fisherwuman’s Suplex, surely a wee feud for the Women’s Title on the cards there unless some big bastardin American company steals one or both of them. BT and Carmel then set both of their opponents up in the corner, before taking shots each to chop them admist a deafening backdrop of “BT…BT…BT FUCKIN GUNN” is anycunt more popular than BT Gunn in ICW right now? Probably not. Rightfully so cause the cunt gets rid of more talent when he takes his morning shite than most folk ever actually possess. He strung together about 40 different kinds of kick in the one go on Stevie, before Kay Lee hit the Gory Bomb on him to switch the momentum back in favour of the baddies.

Weirdly for a real life couple and a long standing tag team, Kay Lee and Stevie kept fuckin up and hitting each other, yet when it came to the vital moment they were more cohesive than ever. First and foremost, BT kicked out of the destroyer somehow cause he’s some kind of atomic choppin’ cyborg, but when Stevie went for it a second time, BT blocked it only for Kay Lee to crack him over the nut with a chair, and Stevie to finish the job by easing into a roll-up for the win. They then followed that up by trying to kill him with a chair before security intervened and stopped murder. Jackie Polo had already smoked a cigar ffs, ye cannae have murder on the same show as indoor smoking. The C in ICW disnae stand for “Crime…aw the crime” cmon noo. Wee bit of revenge for BT costing them a place in the tag tourny final, but they’ll fight again and it will be beautiful.

Legion vs Moustache Girvan

Expected some manner of shenanigans here with people turning on other people, and those people gaun “haw? whit ye daein turnin on me? thats shite mate” but in truth, it was maybe the least shenanigan riddled match of the night. Instead of shenanigan riddled, it was simply a wonderfully entertaining, non stop, out and out scrap between 6 hugely talented individuals, rounded off with people being really nice to each other on the mic. Lovely.

Girvan and Whiplash teed off on each other with rapid forearm smashes, before Tyler Bate bamboozled Dante with some slick movement. How ridiculous is Tyler Bate btw? Cunt’s 19 and has the physique and talent level of a young Mr Perfect. Just makes ye feel…..whits the word……auld. Thats the word. Heavy fuckin auld. Like an auld creaky kneed Granda shouting at the weans next door for kicking their ball in yer back garden. We then got a beautiful glimpse of what a Tommy End vs Trent Seven match would look like, but the post match speeches would suggest that’s a match we won’t ever actually get to see and that’s nothing short of heartbreaking. Know who’s stupidly underrated? Big Dante. He can go like fuck and displayed some beautiful agility for a guy his size when he rounded off a series of dives by clearing the top rope with a dive of his own (he leaned on it a wee bit, but so fuck, he’s huge and jumped really high, that’s what’s important here) As sad as it is that Tommy End may no longer be gracing ICW, don’t fuckin sleep on big Dante. He could easily be a factor in the future.

Everyone hit everyone for a solid 2-3 minutes, and it was honestly too much to keep up with. I think at one point Trent sprouted an extra heid, and Tommy End had kicked it before it had even fully emerged. Rapid kicks from all over the globe. Was nice to see Lewis Girvan match, if not exceed the level of so many talented cunts. I dunno what it is, but since that match with Lionheart there’s been an extra assurance about everything he does. Hopefully that means he’ll be shedding the “future star” tag and folk will consider him in the upper echelons in the here and now. Fuck being the future. Be the present. Noam Dar got that future patter for years, well what is he now? Very much the here and now. Age disnae matter a fuck, being able to tell engaging stories in that ring does, and yer man Girvan has all the tools when it comes to that. He and Tommy End both locked in a half crab each on Whiplash and Trent respectively, before slapping fuck out each other when they realised they both had the same move in and quickly decided…THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!

As Trent had put Whiplash away with a piledriver off the middle rope in Birmingham the night before, he could be forgiven for thinking it would get the job done here as well, so he went ahead and done that very move only for Whiplash to KICK OUT EMPHATICALLY AT ONE. A one count. No even anywhere near a near fall. As far away from a fall as you can get. Proof if it was ever needed that Mikey Whiplash and Trent Seven will not stop until they kill each other, and probably everyone else on planet earth. He followed that up with a big heid remover masquerading as a clothesline and that did indeed get the job done, bringing what was maybe the best 1o minutes of pure entertainment of the night to a close.

Whiplash got on the mic and laid it all out there for Trent. Insisting he no longer wants the main event at the Hydro because Trent deserves it more and urging everyone to make our voices heard and get Trent in that ICW Title Match. Hard to argue with anything he said really, up until the match immediately following this one, there had been no better match in ICW this year than Trent Seven vs Big Damo for the ICW Title, and his performances in general have been unspeakably good. If he isn’t in the title match, he should absolutely still be a prominent figure on the card. Even if that means risking seeing him hit a piledriver from the top tier of the Hydro, right through the middle of the ring. Tommy End then took over to bid a fond farewell to the promotion he’s spent 3 years performing for, and as nice as that was, and as much as we’ll miss the ridiculously talented big warrior, we know its not the end big man. We’ll be seeing you kick fuck out of aw sorts of cunts on that telly and hopefully one day in person again.

Big Damo (c) vs Joe Coffey (ICW World Heavyweight Title Match)

This is his time. His moment. Joe Coffey stood on the edge of the big one. The shiny prize he’s fought tooth and nail to get within shaggin distance of. Big Damo has been as dominant a champion as ICW have maybe ever had, but even 25 stone behemoths can’t stop destiny. It was finally going to be his, after 3 years of turning in outstanding performance after outstanding performance. 3 years of jumping through proverbial hoops. 3 years of battering down obstacles both real and storyline. Over a year after his last shot, Joe Coffey once again found himself in the main event of a big ICW show with the title on the line, and this time he would make no mistake.

What a fuckin stoater of a match. Its unlikely anything in ICW history will ever top Renfrew vs Grado for emotional investment, but there was something about this that left you feeling like both of them had drawn upon every single reserve they possibly could. Knowing victory meant not only being the ICW Champion, but victory would also mean earning the right to face Kurt Angle in front of 11,000 at the Hydro. Career defining shit right here. The fact that having great matches is just what Joe Coffey and Damo do together was almost rendered irrelevant because this was a different kettle of fish altogether. This wasn’t two guys who genuinely like each other having a scrap for the sake of it, for the duration of this match they wanted to maul each other and it showed as Coffey came right out the traps with a dropkick, before they laid into each other wildly with punches. If this was going to be Joe’s time, he was going to have to fuckin earn it, because its hard to get anything away from the grasp of a 25 stone giant, far less a prize that giant has fought his whole career to earn. Either turn up armed with a bazooka and a cigar hingin out yer gub, or there’s nae real point in turning up at all. You’ll be going home empty handed.

Damo weathered the early storm and firmly took control after hitting that big rib rattling senton against the barrier. Joe had silver paint on and alot of it ended up on Damo early on, so much of the early stages was basically The Iron Giant repeatedly standing on Joe Coffey’s neck. No whit yer wantin. Every attempt by Joe to get a foothold was slapped down by the champ, before he stood on Joes chest, only for Joe to reverse the senton attempt and hit the springboard crossbody to get a wee bit of momentum on the go. Big uppercuts and jabs sent Damo into the corner, before a few splashes got Joe’s tail up but Damo battered him down again before hitting the mark with a firemans carry drop into a beauty of a senton. Whit is it wae Irish wrestlers and sentons though? Every variant of the senton is used by every Irish wrestler at least 15 times a match, and naw that’s no an exaggeration. You’re an exaggeration and so’s yer maw.

Joe took a leaf out of Ireland’s book soon after with a rolling senton of his own followed by a picturesque splash from the top rope. Joe continued to build that momentum, a runaway train he wis, last stop, awthebelts. Damo derailed the train with a crossbody which must have been like getting hit by a train, before blocking a second attemot at the discus lariat with a straight up headbutt. Not a wrestling type headbutt, more like a fight to the death type of headbutt. Joe didnae die though, instead of dying he performed a feat of incredible strength, which is probably as close as ye can get to the opposite of dying, cause Joe Coffey’s no a normal man, he’s made of actual real bits of iron. A superplex from Joe was followed by a fuckin brutal looking forearm exchange. They were hitting each other guys. Nae two ways about it. Really hard. With hard bits of their body. The hardest bit of Damo’s body is probably his elbows. Nothing scientific about that assessment other than the plethora of deid bodies he’s left behind in his title defences. Anyone unsure Damo would go to the flurry of elbows to the side of the dome he calls “The Troubles” in a match against such a close ally, needn’t have wondered. Down came the elbows. But Joe wasn’t still. Joe had something in him that no one else who’s taken those elbows had. It was like someone stepping through a wall of bullets and walking up to the give the middle finger to the shooter. He somehow made it to the ropes and became the first person to survive “The Troubles” .

The trouble with surviving the troubles is the fact that they’re fuckin troublesome. A 25 stone man elbowing yer cunt in for any length of time is going to leave its mark, even if it doesn’t knock you clean out the game. Damo hit the Ulster Plantation and some how Joe kicked out. Some how, some way he hoisted a shoulder aff that canvas, because it was his night…or at least, it should have been. Another attempt at the troubles was blocked, before Joe kicked Damo in the back of the head and hit a quite beautiful German Suplex, followed by a big bastardin lariat to the back of Damo’s heid, and finally finishing the brute off with a huge lariat to the front. JOE COFFEY IS THE ICW CHAMPION. THE TWO TIME WRESTLER OF THE YEAR AND PERENNIAL MAN OF THE MATCH HAS FUCKIN DONE IT. Damo stopped on his way up the ramp to beat his chest in honour of the man who’s responsible for the only two clean losses he’s suffered in ICW in the past year. It looks like farewell from Damo, as he deservedly looks to go overseas for the next portion of his career and what better way to go out is there than having the match of the year so far with one of your best mates, before passing the torch to him? Perfection so it was. Almost too perfect….

Wolfgang is a big part of the reason I fell back in love with wrestling and him winning the ICW Title is something that absolutely had to happen at some point in time. This, in my opinion anyway, wasn’t the right point in time. The match those two had deserved to stand alone, so as much as I love big Wolfie, I’d rather have toasted his grand slam win and his first ICW title reign without feeling gutted for a guy who fully deserved that moment and fully deserved to soak in the adulation for it. Having said that, that was the whole fuckin point was it not. The goodies got to win earlier, and Dallas gained ground in the power struggle so of course it had to end with Red Lightning giving us all the middle finger and folk having anger fits. Wolfgang cashing in on a tired champion after his cronies took Damo out of the equation was the only way he could really cash in, because he’s a proper villain. Think about it, when did ye last see one of they perfect photies from David J.Wilson of Wolfgang in mid air? Ages ago, because baddies dont make people go “oooooh”. Proper baddies don’t dae Swantons to put their opponents away. Why bother when its no rules and you can fire some brass knuckles on and knock the cunt clean oot instead? Joe did fight. He kicked out the first time and managed to hit a lariat in anger, but as Red stopped the ref counting the three, Wolfgang had enough time to stick the brassers on and knock Joe the fuck out to become your NEW ICW Champion.

Really good show n that. Totally wrote this ages ago, I just eh……forgot to put it out. Honestly. Still tickets for the show at The Garage on Sunday. Go to that.

On the 4th of November 2012, ICW hosted Fear and Loathing 5 in The Classic Grand. At that time I still didn’t know a huge amount about the company but I’d already seen Stevie Boy jumping off a balcony, Big Damo (medium-sized Damo at that time) run a cheese grater over Jimmy Havoc’s heid, and the debut of Fergal Devitt in ICW, up against Wolfgang in a match that completely changed the way I saw wrestling as an adult, so I knew I was interested in whatever the fuck this mental shit was. The main event that night was supposed to be a fatal 4 way between the former members of a stable known as The Gold Label for Red Lightning’s ICW Title, but a personal issue meant James Scott was unable to compete in the match. Would have been easy enough to explain the situation and still go with the triple threat eh? Maybe even more simple in terms of keeping the story about The Gold Label storyline coming full circle, but instead Mark Dallas chucked a 19 year old Noam Dar in at the deep end and the special talent we see trotting all over the globe bringing joyous Judaism to the masses didn’t disappoint. Putting in a fine performance before being eliminated first and allowing the storyline to play out in his absence. The fact that Dallas wanted him in that main event when a spot opened up, and the fact that he had been booking him since he was 16 is proof that while Noam Dar has always been an immense talent, that talent needs a platform before it really matters a fuck, and ICW gave Noam Dar a platform to grow in front of mature, at times more difficult audiences than he would ever face on family friendly shows. ICW, Mark Dallas, and Noam Dar have forever been synonymous with each other and at a time where Noam Dar’s star has never shone brighter, he has the chance, alongside his best pal and a partner yet to revealed, to write himself into ICW folklore before no doubt jetting off into the sunset to become everyone’s favourite Scottish jew at the performance centre.

While Noam Dar was in main events for the ICW Title as far back as 2012, Joe Coffey was almost a mythical figure back then. I’d been to a few shows and heard a bit about him but was yet to see him wrestle. He was that guy over in Japan learning his craft. It was only when I eventually did see him in ICW in a match against Sean Maxer, that it became apparent why people had been talking about him even in his absence. Joe Coffey could fucking go. Between that match and where he is now, he’s went on a journey that’s seen him add various strings to an already impressive bow and on the same night Noam Dar has the chance to make his name part of ICW legend, Joe Coffey also has the opportunity of a lifetime at his feet. A match in the main event of an IPPV against one of the most heralded talents in Europe and good friend into the bargain in Big Damo for the richest prize in European Wrestling. That’s what the ICW Title is, like it or not. The audience you are exposed to as ICW Champion is bigger than any audience you might be exposed to holding anyone else’s belt in Europe, and Joe Coffey has earned this. He earned it with show making and on the odd occasion show saving performances in that ring, and there’s no doubt in my mind that even though its took a while to get there, the position Noam Dar and Joe Coffey find themselves on the eve of a huge show and ICWs first IPPV on the Fite Network is one that reflects the immense amount of talent they possess. Folk like to talk about how politics and the auld pals act allows others to have opportunities they deserve in wrestling but fuck aw that. Its shite and it always has been. If you’re good enough and you work hard enough, you’ll get to where you want to be no matter what and there’s no doubt this is where Joe Coffey and Noam Dar want to be. The main fuckin men. The boys who could be kings.

Lionheart vs Kenny Williams (ICW Zero-G Title Match)

When the bold Hearto won the Zero-G in April, it didn’t immediately feel like it might be a long-term thing. If you said he’d defend against Kenny a few months later at the time you’d probably reckon it was Kenny’s belt. His first run with it was excellent and he lost a lot of momentum when he dropped it to Danny Hope over a year ago now, so it would make all the sense to fire it back on him but then Lionheart fucked it for everyone by being stupidly good at being Zero-G Champion. There haven’t been many better matches in Scotland this year than Lionheart vs BT Gunn for the Zero-G Title, and Lionheart has been tremendous for months now. If you think hating him means he must be shite, yer just not getting it pal. That means he’s got you eating out the palm of the hand he lays the smack down wae, and you’re gonnae hit rock bottom when you see him retain that belt (I wish I was more sorry for that patter, but I’m sittin giggling away to myself about it so fuck ye) and the more upset you get about his success the more it fuels him to be as much of a dick as possible in plain sight. The match could sneak in the back door and steal MOTN, but regardless of its quality, I fancy Hearto to retain. The possibilities of dickishness that come with him continuing to be Zero-G Champion are endless, especially if Dallas gets back to 50/50 and has some sort of scope to fuck with him a bit. Don’t get me wrang here guys n gals, if Kenny wins it he’ll do another standup job with it but with the help of mild shenanigans I reckon Hearto will retain and oh boy, they will boo hard and they will boo long.

Predicition – Kenny Williams commandeers a milk van, drives it into the ABC and gives everyone in attendance a free pint of semi skimmed, completely transforming his gimmick from being the back to the future guy, to being the guy who makes sure your diet has sufficient calcium. Or ye knew….Lionheart retains.

Final Of The ICW Tag Title Tournament – The Local Fire vs Bird and Boar or The 55

It was a gutter when Polo Promotions announced they were done with ICW and we’re probably past the stage of asking its actually legit and not a part of some elabourate storyline involving strike action and the long awaited creation of a wrestlers union. It certainly weakens the tag division to not have talent like that involved in or indeed leading it, but you can only work with the tools at your disposal and the tag tournament up until this point has been entertaining as fuck. Moustache Mountain vs The Filthy Generation had a proper old school ICW feel to it, heavy on gid patter and even heavier on right gid wrestling, and with Joe Hendry and Davey Boy booking their place in the final in Manchester last night that leaves one spot up for grabs to be taken by either The 55 or a cuttla mad Welsh yins called Bird and Boar. With the greatest of respects paid to Bird and Boar, it would be very odd if they’re on ICWs first IPPV and an established ICW team like The 55 aren’t. Having said that, if Bird and Boar win it opens up the possibility of Sha Samuels turning face and joining his real life bestos Grado and Noam Dar in the big 6 man, and how fuckin tremendous would that be? Sha Samuels should never ever ever ever everrrrr be asked to play the good guy. Why would you ask the best villain in British Wrestling to be anything other than a bad bastard? But for one night only it would be sound and cute if the three amigos were allowed to be amigos in the wrestling instead of just cuttin about Silverburn together gien wedgies out to any wee geek that looks twice at them. Feel like we got a bit off topic there.

Prediction – The 55 win in Birmingham and in Glasgow, become 2 time champions, and volley a priest in celebration because that’s whit hard bastards dae when they win shiny belts. Unless the hard bastards are catholics, then the priests volley them. With their boabies.

DCT vs Bram (Steel Cage Match)

When DCT took a literal whipping off Jack Jester around 2 years ago, it was all leading to this. He might as well have whipped his massive baws out, sat them down on the ring apron and went “this right here…this is whit DCT’s workin with…OH!” because he took a fuckin vicious beating and never asked for anything in return. The exposure from being in a match with the ICW Champion at that time was enough to justify getting brutally leathered and now he has a steel cage match on an IPPV against a guy fae TNA. If you’d have told DCT back then, he would have most likely believed you tbh. He’s a guy who has worked his aforementioned giant baws off, so why the fuck wouldn’t he believe you. No matter if he doesn’t even get to chuck a punch at Bram’s exceedingly jabbable face, getting here is victory in itself, but imagine the scenes if the bold yin won. Imagine the carnage if the International Sex Hero calls upon his 15 inch emergency erection and uses the fucker as a javelin pole to propel himself to the outside without even having to fight the big bastard. I mean he probably wants to get a few dunts in after the cunt piledriver’d his wife through a big cake and that, but if it can be avoided and victory is still his he probably widnae mind that much. It won’t be flippy, it won’t be a catch as catch can classic. It’ll be two guys throwing each other about a big steel box, one attempting to avenge a moustache that was cruelly taken from him and a wife with a cake shaped dent in her skull, while the perprator of those crimes doing what he loves best. Knocking fuck out of cunts and being a pure unadultarated dick about it.

Prediction – DCT wins and his tash grows back immediately after the referee’s hand slaps the mat for the 3.

Legion vs Moustache Mountain and Lewis Girvan

If it unfolds as yer run of the mill,major incident free 6 man tag it’ll be a cracker. That’s what tends to happen when 6 very talented wrestlers combine in 6 man action to settle such matters, but there’s nae way some kind of massive storyline shit isn’t occurring here. There’s too many variables for something big not to go down. Rumours are rife that Tommy End is heading off to pastures new, Trent cost The Sumerian Death Squad their match in the tag tournament, and while they do enjoy battering fuck out each other, there’s clearly a mutual respect between Trent and Whiplash. Whiplash accepting a handshake from Trent when he’d knocked back the offer from the likes of Damo and Joe Coffey in the weeks before says it all. If the result of it is somehow Tommy End vs Mikey Whiplash in ICW, it can’t be a bad thing, but something’s happening. I smell some kind of Trent and Whiplash alliance but maybe I’m way off base. Maybe all 6 of them will stop fighting 5 minutes in, look at each other and go “mon we’ll patch this and be best pals” and all of a sudden you’ve got a 6 man stable of killing machines. Intrigued as fuck by this no matter what happens, and even if Whiplash and Trent do somehow end up on the same side, I hope we see some mouth-watering wrestling from them that makes you openly question how both of them are still alive.

Prediction – Cody Rhodes shows up in full Stardust gear with his hands cupped, before opening them to reveal a dove. The dove starts singing “fuck yer tea….we want Coffey” while the 5 fans in attendance who get the reference nod in acknowledgement, before it flys on to Billy Kirkwoods shoulder and stays there for the remainder of the show, occasionally giving Billy a wee peck on the cheek.

Team Dallas vs The Black Label (Team Dallas must win for Dallas to remain part of ICW and regain a 50% stake in the company)

With people assuming the third man on Team Dallas will somehow be Renfrew, they might be forgetting the bold BT Gunn also declared himself a Mark Dallas guy the same night Renfrew did, and while it never needs any declaration, there’s also the small matter of BT Gunn being one of the finest wrestlers on planet earth, so why the fuck wouldn’t he be the third guy? I reckon now that it’ll be BT Gunn with Renfrew somehow getting involved and tipping it in Team Dallas’ favour before Dallas re-instates him on RAW the next night (PPVs on a Sunday are followed by RAW on a Monday ok, that’s how wrestling works. I really hope I don’t have to teach you this again) Folk are getting hung up on the possible outcome and that’s all well and good, but the make-up of the match could make it an absolute stoater. Noam Dar vs Drew is always outstanding. Drew vs anyone on planet earth is usually pretty nifty if we’re giving the big evil bastard his due. For me Jack Jester’s best opponent is Grado and they’ll get to lock horns at least a wee bit and Wolfgang could drag a good match out of Viscera. No even 500 pound, could barely move when he was about Viscera, Viscera as he is now. Deid. Whit I’m saying here is that Wolfgang could have a match with a large amount of dead weight and that match would still be good. That’s the joke we’re making, and now that you’ve all laughed yourselves inside out, we’ll proceed with talking about the match. Nae way The Label are winning though, even if its a storyline, I don’t think Dallas would be able to stomach being completely exiled so the fightback starts tonight. Even a team comprised of a Disney prince, a mad chainmail dildo wielding shagger and the big bad wolf wae the sexy suitcase can’t stop Noam, Grado and whoever joins them chalking one up for the good guys. Unless Red Lightning decided to cancel the whole thing, the event itself and wrestling in general. Something that still might happen if we don’t aw shut the fuck up. I don’t even mean at the show mate, I mean right now. Shut it.

Prediction – The third man on Team Dallas turns out to be Jeff Hardy and the match never airs because Brother Nero, and everything ever concerning him both past, present and future has been DELETED!

Big Damo (c) vs Joe Coffey (ICW Title Match)

I love Damo. Ask anycunt. Aside from his ability and obvious physicality setting him apart, he happens to be one of most genuine and nice guys plying his trade in this mad wrestling carry on and its nice to see a cunt who went from perennially flying under the radar get the rewards years of hard work were definitely due. If you have a problem with Big Damo elbowing the living shite out of anyone who tries to take his belt, that would make you very silly indeed. The rules dictate that if Damo wants to elbow everycunt on planet earth to within an inch of their life, he can. He could elbow all 1,000+ in attendance at this show into oblivion and the only people who could take issue with it are the polis and perhaps military reinforcements if he predictably demolishes the whole police force. ICW is no rules unless stated otherwise and in that circumstance, a guy who has the weight advantage over everyone else in the company would be very smart to lean all of that weight on his opponents, enabling him a free shot to pummel fuck out their skull (with elbows, no boabies) so if ye don’t like it? Fuckin lobby for a rule change or button yer lip and watch the big man smash fuck out of everyone in his path. Damo worked his baws off to get in to a position where utilising such tactics means he STAYS on top instead of seeming to be in an endless battle to get there, and there isn’t one opponent out there he’s too proud to knock the fuck out in the name of remaining the ICW World Champion. Or maybe there’s one and only one…

I do love Damo, I said it at the start there and said a lot of things to back that up so we’ve established I love the big barra, but Joe Coffey has always been my guy and this might finally be his time. It’s always been Joe’s belt, even before he knew it and for 3 years he’s been the guy having the best match on the card more consistently than anyone else. He’s been the guy constantly adapting and improving the overall product he puts out there to create the best impression of himself possible and that hard work led to some of the best feuds and even some of the best one-off matches in ICW history. The feuds with James Scott and Noam Dar produced some fine contests, while his one time only wars against Brian Kendrick and Rhyno were both standout encounters on the shows they were on. Twice in a row he’s been voted as wrestler of the year by the fans. The people who pour their hard-earned money in to this wrestling carry on believe in HIM. The mighty wrestler, the Iron Man, the guy who gets paint on everyone, whitever the fuck you want to call Joe Coffey, he has another opportunity to become ICW champion after over a year of almost haggling with Red Lightning to earn it and he might not get another one if he doesn’t prevail. He might be the one exception to the elbows. He might be the one exception to the win at all costs mentality Damo has adopted because (and I might be wrong here, but as far as im aware….) Damo’s last clean defeat in ICW was at the hands of Joe Coffey in an absorbing match Edinburgh and even putting aside the respect he has for Joe, he’ll want to avenge that properly. Above all else, he’ll want to prove he’s better than Joe and while he very well might be, it’s that professional pride that might be his downfall because it gives Joe a chance. It gives him a glimmer of hope, almost like someone briefly whipped Damo’s magnificent beard clean aff and gave Joe a clean look at his chin for one time only. If he gets a split second, he has to take that chance. He has to wind up that arm and aim high and true. If he does that, it might just happen. We might finally see Joe Coffey reach the mountain top. The ICW World Champion. The king of kings.

Prediction – Nae joke shite. I predict this will be match of the night/week/month/year/decade/century/millennium.

Aside from all that, we have Liam Thomson revealing his true feelings for Debbie Sharpe, which will do well to top Massimo shoving a haggis pizza in his gub but god bless them for giving it a go. There’s also nae women’s title match and Stevie Boy isn’t on the card so who knows where they end up involved. Will Ospreay is about right now, so if they fired Ospreay vs Stevie on the card for shits and giggles that would be my dream, but yer man Ospreay’s injured so who the fuck knows. I reckon one match will happen that isn’t currently on the card but who participates in it is a fuckin mystery. Maybe it’ll be Juventud Guerrera against Rey Mysterio and we can aw kid on its a 1998 Nitro. Shug’s will be gid. There’s still tickets so get them off ticketmaster and go to the show. Bring a pal. Bring 5. Bring a minibus fulla badgers if ye fuckin want. Its aw happenin and you should be there to oversee the happenings.

Since going to my first PWE show I’ve only ever missed one in 2 years. No bad considering I’m about 2 hours worth of travel away from the venue, yet PWE’s biggest event to date comes round and yer man here’s fucked it. Barring a minor miracle or a very short-term illness, I’m on that fuckin backshift int ah. Didn’t bother asking anycunt to swap cause I legit thought the shows were on Saturday and Sunday and I have both of those nights off. Even looked at hotels for Saturday so I wouldn’t need to bother travelling back through on the Sunday. For a show that does not fuckin exist. Night one is on Friday. DX vs NAK is on Friday. I’ll be in a shop selling folk their carry oot instead. Fuckin shoot me mate. Wae a gun. In the face.

That’s my own personal lament over and done with, but I committed to writing a preview and I must put my personal disappointment aside to do that as competently as possible. Just because I can’t get excited about two days of wrestling in sunny Ayrshire doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be. I’ll be there on the Saturday, and if I don’t smell an overspill of Friday night’s shenanigans in the air, you’ll all be in for a stern talking to.

Friday night – Show one – PWE – Break it down

Aye whitever. Night one is happening. Aside from Laura Spence turning in to a puddle, these matches will occur. I hope the wrestling is good but its a right muggy night and you all end up sweatin through yer merch. Here’s the card.

Wolfgang vs Big Damo

A classic big hoss fight between two of the biggest guys on the scene today. The thing about it is, while they’ll no doubt knock lumps out each other gleefully in the middle of that ring. Both of them can fly. A flying bear and a flying wolf going toe to toe. For Wolfgang, this will serve as great preparation for Billy Gunn on Saturday. If great preparation means a big hairy tank dropkicks the living fuck out of ye. For Damo, its just another opportunity to show cunt’s he’s the top super heavyweight in this country right now. In fact fuck this country, the world.

Joe Hendry vs Lou King Sharp

Remember the heady days of Lou King Sharp being the tag team champions? Naw? Well we do. And the Local Hero ruined it with some very unheroic tagging. When you have a powerhouse of the tag team game like oor Lou as one half of the team, your role as his partner is to provide hauners in case some dick fae the other team pulls a knife. Instead Joe sunk a knife into Lou’s back and watched as Fight Club sauntered away with his belts. For shame. There’s some real bad blood in this one, so expect them to launch fireworks at each other n shit cause that’s just what happens when a feud gets personal.

Truly gutted to be missing Jackie Polo’s in-ring debut with PWE. I just miss the cunt in general, so he better be in amongst it the morra night. Maybe since Joe Coffey and Noam Dar are squaring off against their Saturday opponents, Grado and Polo will decide to join the perty and have them some singles action. This match will mainly serve to plant the seeds for Saturday’s wars and I’ve nae doubt the baddies will go away with the win, setting the good guys up for a night of glory on the Saturday. Morning glory. Wee Noam winning a shiny belt type glory.

Fight Club open challenge for the tag titles

The past twice they’ve done this its been GPWA guys who’ve answered the challenges, but its the 5th anniversary weekender and with the greatest of respects to them, this calls for something a bit different. I have two theories as to who’s gonnae answer, it’ll either be a big name team, possibly imported, such as Demolition, The Rock n Sock Connection or Billy n Chuck and Fight Club will retain via shenanigans, OR if it is GPWA guys, the tag team they seem most impressed with is a team called The Purge and if its them, I reckon they take the belts. What better way is there to introduce yourself to a new audience than by stoating in and taking a couple of belts off one of the most established teams in the UK. I personally would like to see the first scenario unfold because Liam Thomson and Kid Fite should have aw the belts. Every tag belt, and a timeshare situation for the singles. Droonin in belts.

Sha Samuels vs Kenny Williams

Sha and Lionheart seem to have become pals, or have built on an existing friendship, and that means more big Sha in PWE. No sayin Hearto just books his pals like, Jackie Polo is on the card so that proves that it’s not the case, but with deeper friendship comes a deeper understanding of how essential it is to have Sha Samuels in all his villainous wonder, stompin cunts all over your show. Kenny Williams always gets a brilliant reaction in Ayr because he’s dead fast and colourful and it reminds the natives of when they get fulla eccies and stick their thumbs in each others eyes up Club De Mar. Tried to do a local reference there but made a pigs dick of it so I did. I just don’t know much about Ayr other than its nice and I go there for wrestling. Sha Samuels and Kenny Williams will definitely happen, and either the bad guy (Sha) will win with a combination of raw power and sleekitness or the good guy (Kenny) will win with a combination of fleet footedness and big heartedness. Either way, it’s going to be a fun time, and I’ll be slingin bottles of tonic n MD to cunts while it’s happening.

The NAK vs DX (X-Pac and Billy Gunn)

Don’t need to put Renfrew and BT’s name in brackets because the NAK is originals only. You know who they are. The NAK’s hatchets will not be buried for the sake of being reeled out for a re-union every few years. The NAK are not fucking about. They might have done the shakey hands routine with Mr Lionheart to secure this dream match, but it was a means to an end. It doesn’t mean they’re nice guys now. The pleasantries led to this, and that made it worth it. A dream match. A chance to carve a name out globally by carving their names into the skulls of a couple of legends. BT Gunn and Renfrew already chucked some petrol on the fire by showing up during Billy Gunn’s show at walkabout during his last visit and giving him some serious evils, leading to the biggest watergun fight in Glasgow’s storied history. I might be making a bit of that up, but I dunno if I’ve ever been more gutted to miss a match in my puff. Its one of them that most likely won’t ever happen again and the enormity of missing it is now just dawning on me. Fuck sake.

Saturday night – Show two – DAR WARS!!

Yassssssss. Finally time to type words about a show I can actually fuckin physically be at. A show that fuckin BETTER be joyous and by joyous, I mean rammed wae the culmination of a 5 year journey for Noam Dar, ending with him winning a shiny belt. Absolutely uptae its eyeballs in Joe Coffey getting revenge on Mark Coffey. Teeming wae Wolfgang battering Billy Gunn. It better be fuckin good is what I’m saying and I better have plenty of reports of how night one was “good, but awfy clammy, almost as if someone wished the clammyness upon us and made it so”

Sha Samuels vs Big Damo

The battle of the untamed body hair. Real men don’t wax their shit. Real men don’t shave. Real men don’t wander into traffic in the name of catchin them all. Real men are probably bored a lot and warm as fuck due to the out of control body hair, but they do enjoy fightin cunts! If there’s one thing I know about real men, its that they enjoy a good fight so they dae! Och fuck aw this real men patter. Men come in all forms and if some like to shave their gooch, thats on them. Live and let live. Point is, Sha Samuels vs Big Damo will be some good shit. A bit less agile that yer Wolfgang vs Damo because Sha’s ideal of agility is getting his opponent an extra few inches in the air for that spinebuster, but who needs agility when you’re a mad murderous butcher.

Mark Coffey vs Joe Coffey (2 Out Of 3 Falls)

A lot of big time shit on the go at this weekender. DX cuttin aboot choppin crotches. Noam going for the gold. Marquee shit. As nice as all that is, as a fan this is the one I’m looking forward to the most. With the greatest of respect to everyone else, but oh wow, we are too blessed here. The Coffeys against each other in a 2 out of 3 falls match is some shit I’ve been dreaming of since first starting to attend Scottish Wrestling shows and while I doubt it’ll happen, it would be rerr if it was shenanigan free. Just two brothers knockin the living shite out each other in the name of knocking the shite out each other. Nae jump-ins, nae hauners, nae nothing. If anything, lets have their Da as the special guest ref and have him separate them every 2 minutes like they were having a kick about roon the back that got a bit too heated and the big man had to intervene. It might interrupt the flow of the match, but it would be hilarious so ultimately very worth it. I fancy this to steal the whole weekender but I’ll no see the Friday show to ascertain if that’s the case and now I’m sad about that again. Fuck sake. COFFEY VS COFFEY BUT. A brother vs brother clash that will be less dilapidated boats, more mad forearms and lariats.

Wolfgang vs Billy Gunn

One faces Big Damo the night before in a rare matchup where Wolfie is actually the smaller of the two guys, and yer man, the el Badass William Gunn has The NAK to contend with, so its very likely this match will simply be two deid bodies lying next to each other for a 10 count. Assuming both, or at least one of them makes it out of night one alive, this match will be stoatin. I expect Mr Erse to take a few crisp powerbombs from Wolfgang, right on that 60 year auld spine of his and for him to completely no sell them because he’s an indestructible walking hard-on. Has to be a win for our Wolfie, disnae matter how much of a baddie he is or how much he batters guy’s I love, he’s the original. The first guy on the Scottish scene I took to and I’ll always chuck the W up for that reason unless he lays a fuckin finger on Mick Foley. Then all bets are off and I’ll be mad at him from afar but won’t do anything about it aside from that because in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s a big scary bastard.

Iestyn Rees (c) vs Noam Dar (PWE Title Match)

This is really what its all about. I fancy The Coffeys to have the best match of the weekend, and the DX based stuff to get some mental crowd reactions, but this is what it’s all for. The journey coming to an end. Noam Dar was in the final of the tournament to crown the first ever PWE Champion and lost it. Noam Dar had plenty of shots at it when Grado was the main man but couldn’t make it past his best pal. Its now or never because if recent recognition from WWE is anything to go by, we might not be seeing a lot more of Noam around these parts. He needs that big singles title. He’s fuckin earned it getting chucked about and battered fuck oot ae since he was about 15. A 22 year old veteran, whit kinda madness is that? Only in wrestling could that even be a thing, but that’s what he is and he’s doing it. Nae offence to big Iestyn, who hasn’t always been my personal favourite but admittedly had a brilliant match at the last show with Joe Coffey, but its time for you to come up off that gold and slide it on over to the Jewdi Master. The kneebar’s getting locked in and if you don’t tap to that, the Fisherman’s Brainbuster will scramble yer brain cells and see if that’s no getting the job done? Bazooka. Big hole in the chest. Noam Dar win’s the title via TKO on account of his opponent having a basketball hoop where his chest used to be. Iestyn is already the biggest villain in the company, so if he actually retains? Oh fuck. He’s a big lad, but he’ll need a police escort and about 6 bullet proof vests if he’s going to make it out of Ayr alive. Either way, I reckon this match will be pure drama, and Noam will have his moment.

So aye. Come to the weekender eh. I know its a bit late in the day for anyone to take heed of this plea, but don’t be like me. Don’t fuck up and end up having to dae a backshift instead of jumpin through to the ‘shire on a wee train and having a rerr time. Get along to the show, if the weather’s nice maybe get a wee ice cream in the mix. A 99 if ye can get it. Enjoy Ayr and enjoy life in general. Celebrate 5 years of PWE, and hopefully you’ll be celebrating Noam Dar stoating about his home town legit wearing the belt as a belt to hold his trousers up, going about his daily Noam Dar’y business as YOUR PWE Champion.